


Down the Rabbithole

by ArtemisRayne



Category: Alice (2009)
Genre: Adventure, Dystopia, Epic, F/M, Gen, Magic, Past, Quest, Romance, Sequel, Timelines, Torture, Whump, Wonderland
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-01-18 13:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 50,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1429684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisRayne/pseuds/ArtemisRayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten months after their adventures in Wonderland, Alice and Hatter are settling in comfortably in her world. That is until a strange man kidnaps Hatter in the middle of the night. To rescue him Alice is forced to return to Wonderland, but it may turn out that saving Hatter is only one of their problems: magic and time are going mad, and the forgotten line is resurfacing. The secret to saving both worlds lies in the most treacherous place of all - the Mad Hatter's mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_A bitterly cold wind swept through the open field, but nothing could chase away the stifling thickness of the air. It was full and heavy, bloated with anticipation. The only visible movement was the sway of the emerald grass and, in the distance, the rustling of the trees that lined the field. Alice felt a tremor of fear whirl through her as she gazed around at the bleak, foreboding surroundings and wondered where she was and, most importantly, how she'd gotten there._

_"Where and when and why and how?"_

_Alice spun around, looking for the source of the voice, but she was still alone. The voice had seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once, a condescending tenor with a strange, sing-song quality. "Who are you?" she shouted, but her voice was carried away on the wind so quickly that she hardly heard it herself._

_"No-one of importance but someone of great consequence."_

_Whoever had spoken had clearly heard her, but she couldn't find them anywhere. "What do you mean?" she asked, and then decided on a more pressing question, "Where am I?"_

_"In a dream, of course." This sentence was punctuated by a low rumbling sound, something that she knew she had heard before, but couldn't directly place._

_"Why?" she asked, narrowing her eyes as she scoped out the trees for some sign of life._

_The rumble rose in volume, staggered slightly, so she almost thought it was laughter. "Why does anyone dream, Alice-of-Legend? Because there's something they need to see." Alice's heart jumped into her throat at the response. Alice-of-Legend. There was only one place where that name meant anything._

_"Am I in Wonderland?"_

_"No, you're in a dream." Alice felt a delicate brush along her ankles, soft and slight so that she broke out in gooseflesh. She glanced down and found herself facing a squat grey-and-violet tabby with luminous yellow-green eyes like lamps in its furry face. The steady rumble was its purr. "I did just tell you that, after all." The cat's mouth wasn't moving, but there was something in the intensity of its eyes that made her confident; it was the cat who had been speaking to her all along. "You Alices are so illogical."_

_She was about to respond to that, but a sudden disturbance pulled her attention upward. Two figures were flying out of the trees on either side of the field, heading straight for each other at a dizzying speed. It took her eyes a second to make out the details of the sight._

_On the left hand was a jet-black unicorn, steam billowing from its nostrils as it charged with its silvery horn lowered threateningly. To the right was a massive, golden lion; a primal roar exploded from between its fanged teeth and the wind tossed its bronze mane so wildly it looked like fire. Alice had barely gotten a good look at them before the two collided in the dead centre of the field. She baulked and turned her eyes away at the sickening sound of the crash._

" _You aren't here to_ ignore _the signs," the cat's voice chastised her mockingly. "Scared little Oyster, afraid of the truth."_

_"What truth?" she rebutted, staring down into the glowing eyes._

" _You shan't know unless you_ see _. With your head in the sand, you see nothing but sand."_

_Alice desperately wanted to snap back in annoyance, but instead, she lifted her gaze to the chaos in the middle of the field. The unicorn and the lion were engaged in a vicious battle; horn stabbed and claws slashed. All around them, the grass fell, as if it had been trampled flat despite being untouched, and the dirt below was a glistening, dark crimson._

_Suddenly the unicorn reared and kicked the lion. When the beast staggered under the blow, the unicorn bolted straight for Alice. She wanted to run – to hide and protect herself – but her feet felt frozen to the ground. A scream caught in her throat as she watched the unicorn's blood-streaked horn coming closer._

_And then the unicorn slowed, and finally stopped only a few feet in front of her. Its eyes - unnaturally pale - stared at her calculatingly before it ducked its head and became interested in something at its feet. Alice leant forward in curiosity, peering through the tangled grass, and her eyes landed on a worn black top hat between the unicorn's front hooves. It stuck its nose inside, then drew back with an angry snort._

_Alice guessed what would happen right before it did, but her exclamation of alarm never made it passed her lips. The unicorn stomped on the hat, crushing the brim and collapsing it beneath the force of its heavy hooves. Only after it was thoroughly flattened did the unicorn lower its head again, and this time when it lifted its head, there was a shining gold pocket-watch clutched in its teeth._

_At that moment, the lion recovered, and it leapt back into the fray. While the animals fought savagely, the poor hat was battered and torn up beneath their angry feet. For a reason she couldn't explain, Alice felt an anguish she'd never known flood through her, bringing tears to her eyes._

_The longer the lion and the unicorn brawled, the worse the land around them deteriorated as well; the grass lay yellow and dead, and the trees dried, and branches broke as their leaves tumbled away on the breeze. Soon there was nothing left but destruction and the battle._

_The cat purred loudly and drew Alice's eyes downward again. Sitting on the ground next to it were the shredded remains of the hat; on the other side was the golden timepiece with a large fracture in its face and the hour-hand bent at an unnatural angle. Another voice came, echoing distantly like the cat's, but this one was familiar._

"The clockwork's not ticking properly."

_At her feet, the cat's lips stretched and curled into a grotesque grin, filled with sharp, pointed teeth, and its voice came one last time with an ominous warning in its tone._

_"And then, Alice-of-Legend, all will be lost."_

* * *

Alice Hamilton bolted upright in bed with a startled scream, her heart racing as her eyes darted around for some clue as to where she was. The movement woke her sleeping partner, who was instantly on his knees on the mattress, his right hand coiled into a fist in preparation for a fight. When he saw there was none, his gaze turned to Alice, who was still struggling to catch her breath.

"Alice, love, what's'a matta?" he asked anxiously, relaxing his hand and scooting closer to her on the bed.

Taking a deep breath, Alice let her eyes sweep over the man kneeling beside her. He was wearing only a pair of boxers, and his skin seemed to glow in the darkness beneath the unruly mop of chocolate-coloured hair on his head. He set one hand on her shoulder comfortingly, but it was truly his eyes that spoke to her. Those deep, brown eyes were fixed solely on her with concern and compassion. Her Hatter.

"Nothing," she said, shaking her head. "Bad dream."

Hatter reached across her to turn on the bedside lamp, and as the orange light flared in the room, she felt his eyes examining her face determinedly. "You sure?" he asked uncertainly.

"I'm fine," she said, and this time, her voice was a little more under control. It had only been a dream. There was no reason to get worked up over a silly nightmare. She'd certainly had plenty of those in the year since she'd come back from Wonderland; nightmares of brightly coloured liquids in bottles and suit-clad men with guns and crumbling pathways that descended hundreds of feet into grey fog. And yet even while there, she'd never seen anything as outlandish as a lion and a unicorn having a deadly battle over a hat and a pocket-watch.

Even though he still didn't look convinced, Hatter's free hand reached up to trace along the side of her face tenderly. Alice sighed and leant into his warm palm. "Your da again?" he asked gently. She couldn't stop herself from shuddering. Those were some of the worst nightmares of all; the crack of the gunshot, her father's pained face, the halo of blood, and the feel of the man who she'd only just gotten back slipping through her fingers like water.

Hatter seemed to take that as an affirmative because he pulled her into his arms and began rubbing her back soothingly. She accepted the affection gratefully, nestling her head into the curve of his collarbone and allowing him to wrap himself around her. No matter how badly her dreams shook her, this was always her safe place. With her Hatter.

"You want a cuppa?" he asked when her shivering abated.

Alice smiled against his skin at the characteristic gesture – he firmly believed no trouble in the world couldn't be solved with a cup of tea – and shook her head. "Let's just go back to sleep."

Hatter hummed his agreement, and he loosened his grip on her just enough to reach out and turn the lamp off again. They slipped back beneath the covers, and the moment they were tucked in, he drew her back to his body securely. With any other person, the closeness may have made her feel stifled, but he was different.  _They_ were different.

"I'll make sure you're safe, yeah." The sleepy assurance warmed her heart, and Alice nuzzled her head against his chest. Evidently, now that he knew there was no danger, Hatter's exhaustion had crept back up. It only took a few minutes for his breathing to slow into quiet snores, although his thumb never stopped its steady swipes back and forth across her upper arm.

Closing her eyes, Alice let the thumping of Hatter's heart beneath her ear calm her. Despite what she'd told him, she was still unnerved from the dream. It wasn't so much the bloody and violent battle, or the mysterious talking cat, or even the perplexing anomaly of the pocket-watch and the top hat. No, what worried her worst of all was the one sentence spoken in an all-too-familiar voice.

_"The clockwork's not ticking properly."_

That voice had belonged to Hatter, and it wasn't the first time that she'd heard him say it, either. It was one of the random phrases he sometimes muttered to himself when his mind was preoccupied. She had always accepted it as one of his many eccentricities, but its appearance in her dream – especially in connection with the broken face of the pocket-watch – sent an ominous prickle down her spine.

The clockwork wasn't ticking properly because the timepiece was broken. Alice couldn't help but wonder just what lengths the battling animals would go to in an attempt to get their hands on that watch.

 _This is stupid,_  she chided herself irritably. What was she worried about anyway? It was only a dumb dream, the result of one too many slices of pizza before bedtime or something. Wonderland and all its madness were in the past now, and that's where it would stay. She forced the images to the back of her mind and curled herself closer to the sleeping form of her Hatter. They were just dreams.

Content with that line of thought, she finally drifted back to sleep a short time later. She didn't dream this time, but when the alarm clock woke her in the morning, she could still see the after-image of a fanged smirk and a pair of gleaming eyes burning against her retinas.


	2. Grasping at Shadows

Hatter blinked blearily and let himself drift closer to consciousness. It was the crack of dawn, the sun not even slipping above the horizon yet, and it was without a doubt his favourite time of the day. He would need to get out of bed soon but for now, he was allowed a few minutes of peace to enjoy, and he planned to absorb them fully.

The bed was warm, doubled by the heat from the body curled at his side, and the half-light in the room bathed everything in a pale golden glow. He smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of Alice's head, smoothing down some of her sleep-tossed hair with a hand. She murmured in her sleep and nuzzled her cheek against his collarbone. Whatever dreams she'd had during the night were apparently gone, and she was dozing serenely.

Closing his eyes, he let his head sink into the pillow again and immersed himself in the comfort of their shared bed. In all of his life, he had never known contentment like he had found with his Alice. It had been a leap of faith, coming through the Looking Glass and chasing after her, but the life they had made was better than he could've dreamt. Alice had welcomed him with open arms – and a whole kettle of truly delightful snogging – and while it hadn't always been easy, things had only grown better with time.

The flat that Jack Heart had signed over to him, along with the safe filled with Oyster money, kept him going until he found his own way. Only six weeks after coming to the Oysterworld, he had stumbled across an empty shop with a loft above it for sale, and he'd used the considerable amount of paper-money he had to purchase it for himself. It was liberating, owning his own place again, and he converted the ground floor into a proper tea shop. Seven weeks after moving into his flat, he had just as many of Alice's things in his closet as his own; four weeks after that, she had officially moved in with him.

And still, just shy of a year of living in the Oysterworld, he was stunned by the warmth in his chest whenever he woke up to see his lovely little Oyster curled up beside him.

Hatter glanced at the clock on the bedside table, and his sigh quickly morphed into a weary groan. He really did need to get out of bed now. The tea shop opened in just over an hour, and there was a whole lot of brewing to be done before the morning crowd started showing up. Pushing the blankets off his body, he began to carefully extract himself from the slender arms around his chest. Alice moaned and tightened her grip, clinging to him like a Mome Rath stuck to a wheel of cheese. Hatter smirked a bit to himself at the thought and, with a little more manoeuvring, he managed to replace his body with his pillow.

Dressing quietly in the dark so as not to disturb Alice – she was meaner than a mother Bandersnatch when woken up before she needed to be – Hatter slipped out into the main room of the flat. He grabbed a bagel from the kitchen cupboard and his favourite black pork-pie hat from the table beside the door. He flicked it into the air with a practised movement – it landed on top of his naturally dishevelled hair just as he pulled the door open – and then jogged down the stairs into the darkened shop.

His morning was a habitual circuit of patterns; turning on lights, putting kettles on the stove, bagging the tea leaves, setting out the cups. The whole thing, which had just been a bit of frantic scrambling at the beginning of this adventure in business, had quickly turned into a routine for him. He knew which things needed to be done first and had mastered all of the best ways to multitask without letting teas steep too long or the dishes pile up. By seven o'clock, the doors were open, and the first of the daily customers had shuffled in.

"Mornin', Arthur," Hatter said brightly to the middle-aged man with the drowsy eyes as he came through the door only minutes after Hatter'd unlocked it. He turned to the kettles, already preparing the same tea the older man ordered every day.

"Morning, David," replied Arthur, and he spared a tired smile. "I don't know how you're always so happy this early."

Hatter chuckled, adding a bit of lemon to the tea. The bitter yellow fruit was excellent for waking up the Oysters. "Just a mornin' man, I reckon," he said and shrugged. "'Sides, I got m'self a right nice sight to wake up to."

Arthur opened up his wallet, grinning and leaning one elbow onto the long front counter. "That just sounds like another reason to stay in bed if you ask me." Hatter smirked as he accepted the folded bit of paper-money and passed the cup across to the other man. He couldn't really argue with him there. "Thanks, David. Don't know what I'd do without your magic tea. See you tomorrow."

Hatter called out a farewell as the older man left and then leant against the counter with a smile. It had amazed him how much the Oysters loved his teas here. In Wonderland, human tea had been a worthless commodity, the sort of thing that only the richest could waste their money on and few did.

He'd always adored the drink, and he had spent a decent share of his shop's profits on the tins of tea leaves smuggled over from the Oysterworld. Over the years he'd gotten a handle on which sorts of teas treated which sorts of ailments, and what sorts of additives caused which outcomes; lemon battled fatigue, lavender aided sleep, honey was good for chest colds, that sort of thing.

For ease of familiarity and out of a long-standing habit, he had named all of the tea brews quite pointedly for the feeling they were designed to encourage, much the way Wonderland Teas had been labelled. In this world, the business had started out slow – apparently, tea still wasn't a high-demand trade on this side of the Looking Glass – but word had spread like wildfire and soon people were flocking into the shop for his "magic" drinks.

The little bell above the door jingled playfully, signalling the entrance of another customer, and Hatter put on his most winning smile as he made to greet the steady stream of familiar faces. 

* * *

Alice clapped her hands together once and felt a smile creep onto her lips as the dojo studio fell silent almost instantaneously. "I'll see you all on Thursday," she said, by way of dismissal. A familiar rustling and murmur spread through the room as her students gathered their things and headed for the door. She returned the few farewells that were tossed her way by the more social – or the less breathless – students as she walked over to her duffel bag.

Picking up the towel, she dabbed away the sweat that had beaded on her forehead during the exercise. It had been a long day already, and she still had two more classes to go before she could go home, where she'd promptly change and start helping out in Hatter's shop. He'd never asked for her help, but she liked being a part of his new life here and she could tell he appreciated having her around. It might have been almost a year that he'd been in her world now, but he still wasn't fond of being left alone for long.

If she was honest with herself, she was in a bit of a hurry to get home to him today too. She had tried to push the strange feeling to the back of her mind, but the truth was that her nightmare had been haunting her all day. It had been intense and graphic, and there was something about that cat that had distantly triggered in her mind, even if she couldn't quite place what that was. The whole thing had set her on edge, and it was making her jumpy. When she was uneasy, there was only one thing that made her feel better: Hatter wrapping his arms around her and offering her a cup of tea.

Alice shook her head and tossed her towel back onto her bag. She just needed to keep moving, that's all. Striding out into the middle of the vacant room, she readied herself and then set through the familiar motions of the judo exercises she'd been doing since she was ten. They were comfortable but just challenging enough that she was forced to keep her mind focused on the task at hand.

Moving on, she started running through the plans for her next class, an advanced black-belts class. Her muscles moved out of reflex, carrying her through open-handed punches and leg-kicks with the ease of experience. After the wild fighting for her life that she'd done in Wonderland, these classes seemed almost absurdly simplistic.

Alice caught sight of her reflection in one of the mirrors on the wall and immediately froze. It wasn't so much her own reflection that had seised her attention; no, it was the sight of another figure behind her that had jarred her to a stop. She planted her foot and pivoted sharply.

The dojo was deserted.

Frowning, Alice walked across to the door and looked out into the hall, but she couldn't see anyone in the wide corridor that led to the recreation centre's lobby. She could've sworn she'd seen someone watching her – an indistinct figure in a shabby brown trench-coat. A feeling of dread crept into her, and she looked back at the mirror again, but all she could see was her own pale and sweaty reflection staring back at her.

"I'm going crazy," she murmured with a half-hysterical laugh, aware that talking aloud to herself was a sure sign that what she'd said was true. After all, Hatter talked to himself habitually, and he was clearly insane, albeit in a charming and harmless sort of way.

"Heya, Alice."

She jumped at the voice and then immediately blushed at being caught off guard. One of her black-belt students, a local policeman, was coming down the hall toward the classroom, already dressed in his _gi_. "Hi," she responded and then stepped into the room so he could pass through the door.

"You alright there?" he asked, eyeing her in concern. "You look a little spooked."

"Fine," she said and forced casualness into her tone. "Just didn't sleep well last night." That, at least, wasn't a lie. Thankfully he wasn't able to question her any further because the rest of the class started to filter in one-by-one and gave Alice a legitimate reason to ignore the whirlwind of thoughts trying to surface in her mind. She waited until the last person had shown up, and then clapped her hands together loudly. "Alright, let's start with our stretches."

* * *

"David! Excitement, to go." Hatter glanced over his shoulder at the teenage boy who was currently manning the front counter. He had been fine with running the place all on his own, but the increased business had made it necessary to bring on an extra hand during the middle of the day when he couldn't quite keep up with all of the orders. Alice did a good job of helping out when she was around, but between her judo classes and her studying at the city college – which she'd picked up at the end of the summer – her free time was limited.

Trevor Mills had been a student at the secondary school a few blocks down, and he had stopped by every morning on his way to his classes. There was something about him that Hatter had immediately liked – aside from the fact that he knew teas like it was his native language and had introduced Hatter to a bakery that made the most  _fantastic_ cream cakes – and when he'd offered the boy a job after he'd graduated, Trevor had accepted instantly. It had definitely lowered Hatter's own stress level a deal.

"Right-o," Hatter shouted back and picked out the proper leaves, folding them into a thin paper bag. Once it was secured, he dropped it into a cup and filled it with boiling water from the kettle. Clipping on the lid, he turned and handed the cup across the counter to the jumper-clad woman on the other side. She flashed him a grateful smile before she walked away.

"The rush is clearing out now," said Trevor, looking up from the stack of receipts he was pinning together beside the register. "We should be all right for a bit until everyone starts getting off work."

"Bloody busy day," Hatter murmured, nudging aside his hat to run his fingers through his hair. He stared out over the shop tables, where the people with a few free minutes were clustered around and enjoying their drinks. "This keeps up I'm gonna have to bring on anotha one o' ya."

Trevor laughed. "I know plenty of hungry college kids who could use the extra cash," he replied with a grin. Hatter hummed to show he'd heard, but he wasn't seriously considering the idea straight off. If he was going to bring someone into the business, he wanted it to be someone who gave a damn. He'd made the mistake of getting tangled up with people who were only in the business for the money, and while he knew things were different here than in Wonderland – and selling tea was a lot different than selling Teas - he wasn't going to risk making that mistake again.

"Why don' ya go gather up the cups and get 'em washed while it's slow," he said. "I got the counter."

"Aye, aye, boss," Trevor said with a smirk and a mock salute. Hatter couldn't entirely hold back his laugh at the gesture as the teen scarpered off with a tray to start collecting the used tea cups left behind on the tables.

His attention turned down to the counter, flicking through receipts and marking the sales off against the little inventory book Alice had given him. He'd only been at it for a few beats of a Tove's heart when he felt a strange prickling on the back of his neck, a feeling he was well used to; the feeling of being watched.

Immediately, Hatter's eyes darted up to the glass front of the shop. There was a quick blur of movement that disappeared passed the edge of the window frame, but the brief glimpse he'd gotten made his heart fall down into his stomach. "Can't be," he hissed in horror. Forgetting the books, he bolted around the counter and across the shop, Trevor's alarmed question falling on deaf ears. He barrelled out onto the sidewalk and looked around.

The Oysters walking passed were shooting him curious looks, but Hatter ignored them as his eyes scoured the crowd. He was so sure he'd seen – but no, it couldn't have been. Still, Hatter surveyed every visible face one last time before letting out a breath of relief. He'd imagined it. He had to have.

"Uh, David?" He glanced back to see Trevor standing in the shop doorway, looking uncertain. "You all right?"

"Uhn," Hatter grunted out and then quickly collected himself. "Thought I saw an old mate. It's nothin'." Trevor's forehead was still furrowed in concern, honey-sweet Curiosity dripping off him, but he nodded and went back inside.

The after-work crowd showed up not long after, and the chaos helped Hatter to keep his mind occupied, but he still couldn't shake that odd feeling he'd gotten in the pit of his stomach. There was no way he'd seen the face he thought he had, but for that brief second when he had believed it, there had been nothing but ice cold terror in his chest. The sort of panic he hadn't felt in ages – not since he was a helpless street orphan being dragged off by the Chemists for their experiments. The very memory made Hatter's right hand clench reflexively, until the teacup he was clutching cracked and he remembered himself.

No, there was no way he'd seen that face in the Oysterworld. The Looking Glass was dormant, the Stone of Wonderland carefully hidden away beneath a loose floorboard upstairs, and all of those dark faces from his past were on the other side of the glass where they belonged. He'd just let his mad mind wander off on its own again, that's all.

"David! Maggie wants her usual," Trevor called.

All of the contemplativeness instantly slipped away as his customary grin bounced right back onto his face. "Hullo Maggie," he said with a wave to the elderly woman standing opposite the register from his young helper. "One cuppa Serenity, comin' up."

And as he prepared the relaxation tea for his customer, he made a cup for himself as well. He clearly needed it.


	3. An Unwelcome Arrival

"Hatter, you okay?"

"Hmm?" Hatter glanced up from the tabletop to where Alice was standing elbows-deep in soapy dinner dishes. 

"You okay?" she repeated.

"Course," he replied. "Why you askin'?" By way of answer, she pointed at his hands. He looked down and realised he'd been twirling his hat between his fingers at a dizzying speed. He immediately stilled his hands.

"I'm all right, love," he assured her. "Just thinkin' on some things."

Alice nodded and went back to scrubbing the frying pan. "What kinds of things?" Her voice was soft and curious, but he could still feel the Concern coming off her in waves. It fascinated him, the way Oysters felt emotions so strongly that they seemed to radiate them. He felt more clearly than most Wonders, but even he wasn't sure he could be capable of the quantity and strength of emotions that Oysters went through on a daily basis.

Hatter smiled. "Trivial things. Crumbs in the butter."

Even though he could tell she'd recognised his evasion, she still laughed. "Sounds interesting."

"More than the song of a Grizzerby," he replied playfully. She rolled her eyes the way she did every time he used a saying from Wonderland, knowing full well she wouldn't understand it. "Silly birds," he explained. "Got two heads, and each head can sing three songs at once. Can pass hours tryin' to hear all the songs." He set his hat on the table and stood up. "I'm gonna pop into the shower. Unless you'd like to join me," he added with a wink.

Alice laughed again, genuine and bright, and shoved his chest with a sudsy hand. "Get out of here."

Hatter smirked and ducked his head in to steal a quick kiss, and then disappeared into the bathroom. A nice hot shower and a good night's sleep would clear his head and put this terrible, edgy day behind them.

* * *

Alice sighed and snuggled herself closer to Hatter's side. As if it was instinct, Hatter draped his arm over her shoulders without glancing up from the book in his lap. Reading together before bed had become a nightly routine of theirs, although more often than not it would end up being just him reading while she dozed against him.

They had only been at it ten minutes tonight, and her mind was already drifting. She couldn't get herself to focus on the textbook she was supposed to be reading for her college science course. Instead, she fell back on her usual standby: watching Hatter.

She liked to see the change that came over him while reading. Books had become one of Hatter's greatest loves in her world. Growing up in a place where all of the books were locked away for safekeeping, reading had been a leisure activity rarely enjoyed. The fact that books of every kind were so readily available in her world had spun his mind, and he devoured them all eagerly. They made weekly trips to the library, and sometimes even that wasn't often enough to keep him going.

At the moment, Hatter was reclined in the sofa, his ankles propped up on the coffee table with his book spread open across his knees. His hair was still damp from the shower, and it was starting to curl and flip around his head in its typical style. Narrow creases had formed on his forehead as his chocolate eyes narrowed in concentration, darting back and forth across the page. There was a soft smile twisting up his lips, just shy of making the dimple appear in his cheek, and it made him look peaceful. This was _her_  Hatter, the one that only she ever saw.

"Why is a raven like a writing desk?"

Alice blinked in surprise. Hatter hadn't taken his focus off his book, and if she hadn't been staring at his mouth, she wouldn't even have been sure he had actually spoken.

"What?" she asked, puzzled by the comment.

"Why is a raven like a writing desk?" he repeated, turning the page in his book.

"I don't know," she said. "Why?"

Hatter chuckled. "Well I dunno, do I? Else I wouldn't need be askin'." He finally glanced up from his book to grin at her. "You seemed so bored, I thought I may as well give ya somethin' worth thinkin' 'bout." His gaze went back to the book as the dimple in his cheek surfaced. "'Sides, your starin' is distracting."

Sitting up, Alice set her hand on top of his book. When he looked up at her, she was smiling impishly. "Maybe I was trying to distract you," she said suggestively, leaning in to kiss the side of his neck. Hatter's eyes brightened, and he immediately set aside the book.

"Well then, love, by all means," he said flippantly. "Distract away."

She didn't need any further prompting.

* * *

 _He was in a forest, of that much Hatter was certain. It wasn't the Forest of Wabe, however. The trees here were too old, too –_ talkative _. They were whispering to each other over his head, so softly that he couldn't make out the words. Wherever he was, the very air hummed with magic._

_"You really ought to run."_

_Hatter spun around, but he couldn't see anyone. "Who's there?"_

_From behind a tree stepped a bushy, grey-and-violet striped cat. It sat down on the roots of the tree and stared at Hatter with intelligent, shining eyes. Hatter's heart leapt into his throat. A Cheshire!_

_"I'm_ _dreaming," he concluded aloud. He had to be; no one had seen a Cheshire in over a hundred years. Not to mention, he was fairly sure that Cheshires were too tied to the magic of Wonderland to be able to cross over to the Oysterworld._

_"_ _Obviously," the cat responded, licking one of its paws lazily._

_"_ _Why?" He knew the old stories; a Cheshire only ever presented itself when something important was about to happen. They were omens, of a sort. Whenever a Cheshire had cropped up in his school history books, it was always inevitably followed by some dramatic change in Wonderland._

_"_ _Why ask me? This is your dream, after all." The cat cocked its head, its lamp-like eyes glimmering knowingly. "Perhaps you should ask that."_

_Hatter turned to see what the cat was staring at and instinctively stumbled backwards in terror. There was a bolt of black charging straight toward him, its white eyes blazing. Between the eyes was a long silver horn, and the realisation burst out of him in a breathless gasp. "A unicorn."_

_The horn pierced straight through his chest like a knife through warm butter, and there was an explosion of blood droplets as the pain consumed him._

* * *

Hatter swallowed his shout as his eyes snapped open. Immediately his hands went to his chest, but the skin was smooth and undisturbed. Even the relief of having not been gored to death couldn't steady him. Alice was still sleeping peacefully – she was a much heavier sleeper than him – and he carefully slipped out of bed and headed for the bathroom. He shut the door behind him quietly before flicking on the lights.

His reflection was the first thing that caught his attention. The glow of the lighting did nothing to disguise the fact that he was pale as the moon. His eyes were wide, and the pupils dilated from adrenaline. He could actually see the frantic beat of his heart in the artery in his neck. At his side, his right hand was fisted so tightly the veins along his muscles were bulging beneath the skin.

"A Cheshire dream," he murmured aloud, his mind still reeling. He wanted to tell himself that it was just a dream, that his mind had conjured up the images out of some dormant fear, but he knew it wasn't true. He'd actually been visited by a Cheshire cat. Nothing good could come of this situation.

Leaning on the counter, he tried to analyse the dream for meaning. It had been in Wonderland, surely. As far as he could tell, the magic of the Oysterworld had died away a long time ago. It was barely clinging on in Wonderland, and even then only in the oldest and most undisturbed of places. Far away from the city and the casino.

And there had been a unicorn there. That was impossible, though. The unicorns had gone from Wonderland centuries ago, so long that they had disappeared into the realm of myths even before the time of the first Alice-of-Legend. So what could his dream possibly have meant?

"Madness," he muttered, shaking his head and dragging a hand through his hair. "Cracked kettles and marmalade." There was no purpose in trying to decipher a Cheshire dream. The stupid things never actually made sense until they had come to pass anyhow.

Still, the Cheshire had obviously been trying to warn him of something. Maybe it would be a good time to take a bit of a holiday. He and Alice could go on a trip; get away for a couple of days and put this whole thing behind them. Perhaps he would take the Stone of Wonderland and hide it away somewhere far from the Looking Glass, just in case.

Hatter splashed cool water on his face and then made to go back into the bedroom. He would tell Alice about it all in the morning, and they could make some excuse to go away. A couple's retreat, maybe for some vague anniversary type thing. He had just shut off the bathroom light when he heard something out of place in the quiet flat: a creaking floorboard.

He froze in the doorway, his ears straining for any other sound, and then he heard it. A shuffle of steps on the hardwood. Running on the balls of his feet to keep quiet, Hatter darted across to the bed. He placed a hand over Alice's mouth and shook her. She woke up in a flash, and at the look of alarm in her eyes, he put a finger to his lips. When she nodded, he drew his hand back, and she sat up.  _What?_ she mouthed in the darkness.

He pointed to his ear and then out to the living room, and she nodded again. Standing up, he crept cautiously toward the door to the next room. Alice followed a half-step behind him. Hatter paused beside the door and fisted his right hand, gesturing for her to stand on the other side of the frame. She scowled at him, and for a minute he thought she would argue with him about it, but she slipped over to the other side and pressed herself against the wall, her arms raised in a fighting stance.

Content that she was safe for the moment – because when the door opened, she would be behind it – he flattened his ear against the door and listened. There were more hushed steps, heavy but deliberate. Whoever it was, they were obviously big. They were moving casually, almost lazily, as if the person was unafraid of being caught, but most surely in the direction of their bedroom.

They waited as the footsteps slowly advanced. Hatter's arm was starting to ache from being flexed for so long, but he didn't dare release his grip. Not when his Alice might be in danger. The steps paused on the other side of the door. Hatter watched the knob, waiting for the jiggle that would warn of someone opening the door. One second... Two seconds... Three-

_BANG!_

The door burst open like there had been an explosion. Hatter heard a startled scream as it swung wide and hit Alice. Bracing his feet, he threw his fist hard in the direction of the intruder. The wooden frame shattered under his hit, sending splinters and paint chips flying in every direction. Before he could recover from the misplaced attack, an arm threaded around his neck.

"Gerroff me!" he growled, grabbing the arm around his throat and trying to use the attacker's weight against him, the way Alice had taught him. The only result was a series of deep, painful scratches where the assailant's fingernails clawed at his neck for a better grip. The world started tilting perilously, and he threw his elbow back, driving it into the other man's stomach. The choke-hold finally loosened enough for him to break free, and he pivoted around, ready to throw himself back into the fight.

The sight that met him made him stagger in shock. It couldn't be. It wasn't possible. The taller man grinned darkly. "Hello, Hatter."

Hatter's eyes widened in alarm even as he scowled. "Gryphon."

* * *

It all happened so quickly she couldn't quite process it. One minute she and Hatter had been crouched on either side of the door, listening for signs of the intruder. The next thing she knew, the door had burst open so hard that it had knocked her back into the wall, bashing her skull against the bricks. Alice clutched her head, willing the spinning to stop. She could hear sounds of fighting; Hatter needed her help.

"Hello, Hatter." The masculine voice was sharp and gravelly, with a liberal amount of condescension. It took her approximately an extra three seconds to realise that the man had addressed him as Hatter, meaning that he must be from Wonderland. But how was that possible? The Looking Glass was  _closed_.

"Gryphon," Hatter replied, and she could hear something in his voice that sounded a bit like fear. Pressing a hand against the throbbing side of her head, she clambered to her feet and took in the scene in front of her.

Hatter was crouched defensively, and four long scratches across his face and neck were oozing blood onto his bare chest. Standing opposite him was a taller man, whose swept-back ginger hair was liberally streaked with silver. When he shifted his weight, it made the tails of his trenchcoat swirl against his legs, and she realised with a jolt that this must have been the man she'd seen in the dojo mirror.

As she straightened up, Hatter's gaze flicked over the man's shoulder to meet hers, and he blanched. "Alice, run!" he commanded.

The man turned on his heel, and she could actually feel his dark-eyed stare as it combed over her. "So, this is the Alice-of-New-Legend that I've heard so much about," he mused. "I expected a bit more. At least she's older than the last." Hatter suddenly staggered. His gaze had gone slack, and he touched the scratches on his neck lightly. The man – Gryphon – chuckled as he picked at one of his unnaturally pointed fingernails. "You feel it now, don't you?"

Hatter looked up at Alice again and, this time, his expression was one of pure terror. "Run, Alice!" he repeated, but his voice slurred. He buckled to one knee, fighting to keep his balance. "He's dosed. Don' let 'im touch ya. Run!"

Ignoring him, Alice unlocked her knees and lifted her arms, ready to attack at a moment's notice. "What did you do to him?" she growled at the man angrily.

"He'll survive, don't worry your pretty little head," Gryphon said dismissively. He suddenly let out a loud bellow as Hatter launched himself at the backs of the larger man's knees, and they tumbled to a heap on the ground.

Hatter was making a valiant attempt to keep Gryphon down, but his eyes had lost their focus and his movements were slow. Gryphon knocked him aside with a shove and Hatter's arms crumpled when he tried to push himself up again. Twisting onto his side, Hatter snatched blindly at Gryphon and gasped out, "Alice, run."

As usual, she didn't listen to him. Instead, Alice bolted forward and pounced on Gryphon, hitting him in the throat with her flat fist. He choked, but grabbed her upper arm and tugged roughly. His nails dug furrows into her skin as he tossed her aside like she weighed nothing. Alice tried to climb to her feet, but somehow her balance felt off. She must have hit her head harder than she'd thought.

"Sleep now, Alice-of-New-Legend," the man said as he straightened up and dusted off his coat. She slumped back against the bed frame, feeling a strange pulling sensation in the back of her mind like she had gone too many hours without sleep and now it was threatening to drown her. Her eyes flicked to Hatter, who sprawled, unconscious, across the area rug. As she watched, Gryphon stooped down and lifted Hatter's body, swinging it over his shoulder like a sack.

"Don't hurt him," Alice snarled through gritted teeth, trying to shove herself to her feet again. She failed and wound up hitting the floor hard, her breath bursting out of her as her shoulder collided with the hardwood.

"Oh, _I_ won't," Gryphon replied, but there was something sinister around his smile as he leered down at her. "But as for the others, well, I can't promise anything."

Questions were all struggling to burst out of her at once, but she couldn't make her tongue form the proper words. Darkness was teasing the edges of her vision, and it was getting harder to fight off the exhaustion threatening to drag her under. "Hatter," she mumbled thickly, and her eyes sought out his face, hovering feet above hers. It was pale and slack and striped with blood.

Gryphon's heavy footsteps carried him out into the hall, taking Hatter away from her view, at the same time that she lost consciousness.


	4. Seeking Wonderland

The moment his consciousness returned, Hatter groaned loudly. He felt like he'd been trampled by a whole herd of starving Borogoves. Every muscle in his body felt achy and heavy, and the left side of his face and neck were swollen and tender. He tried to lift a hand to check on the injuries, but his limbs wouldn't respond. No, it was more than that; it was like something was pressing down on him, stopping his arms from moving.

"I was wondering when you were going to wake up. You've slept almost a whole day now."

Hatter's eyes snapped open at the voice, and everything came rushing back at once. The last thing he remembered seeing flashed before his eyes and he immediately snapped, "Where's Alice?"

Gryphon chuckled. "Your feisty little Oyster? Still sound asleep in her world, I would imagine. It's so hard to tell how long these things will last in them. And then there's the time difference..."

"If you 'urt her, I will  _kill_  you," Hatter vowed menacingly.

Gryphon merely let out an amused sigh. "I'd forgotten just how melodramatic you are, Hatter."

As Gryphon idly examined his fingernails, the younger man took the opportunity to survey his surroundings. They were in a simple, square room, made of swirled black-and-white marble. There were no decorations on the walls and only two pieces of furniture; the plush chair where Gryphon perched and the stiff chair to which Hatter was tied. Wide leather straps were buckled over his wrists, chest, and ankles, just short of being painfully tight. Getting out of here wouldn't be a tea party, that was for sure.

No, instead it would be better to focus his attention on what he could get: information. He couldn't rightly plan any sort of escape until he had a few more answers. "You dosed me," he accused, feeling the scratches on his neck and jaw sting as he spoke. "What with?"

"Just a bit of Fatigue," said Gryphon. "I always keep some with me, in case I need to acquire someone. Takes a lot of the struggle out without damaging them much. After all, I wasn't about to put myself on the wrong side of that right hook again, was I? You broke my collarbone last time. Shoulder's never been the same since."

Hatter ignored the comment. "Who hired you?"

"You're making assumptions, old friend," Gryphon said and smirked.

"Not friends," Hatter corrected him flatly. "And we both know you're just the courier, Gryph. You just fetch when others tell ya. So who's it?"

Gryphon scratched at a nail distractedly, and they made a grating noise as he rubbed the edge of one over the other, like steel on a whetting stone. "You have a long list of enemies, you know. Lots of folks that want you dead and that was even  _before_  you and your Oyster turned things upside-down. This wasn't the first time that someone asked me to fetch you."

"So what made this time so special?" pressed Hatter. He knew Gryphon was a master at dancing around the answers when he needed to, but if he pushed long enough the older man would cave. The only thing he loved more than being paid was gossiping.

At this, Gryphon leant forward and planted his elbows on his knees, lowering his voice conspiratorially like he was imparting some deep secret. "This one doesn't want you dead."

Hatter laughed wryly. "That'll be a first. Whadda they want then?"

"That I don't know," the older man replied and sat back into the black cushion. "Didn't say, so I didn't ask. All I was told was they wanted you alive. Apparently, it's something only you've got, though."

Hatter frowned thoughtfully. What could he possibly have that someone wanted so badly? He didn't really have much in the way of possessions. Nearly every valuable thing he'd once owned had disappeared when his shop had been ransacked. There were still a few personal and family trinkets he'd hidden away, but their value was purely sentimental. His mind immediately went to the Stone of Wonderland beneath the kitchen floorboard, but that raised a whole new barrage of questions to his mind.

"We're in Wonderland," he said. Gryphon nodded. "How'd we get 'ere?"

The older man's smile was patronising. "Oh dear boy, you don't honestly believe that the Looking Glass is the only way in, do you?"

"The on'y controlled one," said Hatter, but he felt a suspicious niggling in the back of his head.

"Hardly." Gryphon laughed, a sharp, shriek of noise. "The old lines would never be foolish enough to put all of their faith into just one Rabbit Hole."

"That's enough, Gryphon." The voice that spoke up from behind Hatter was cool, calculated, and female, with a slightly amused affectation. Hatter jumped in surprise and tried to crane his head around, but he couldn't twist far enough to find who had spoken. "Remember, we're supposed to be learning his secrets, not telling him ours."

"Of course, your highness," said Gryphon, and he tipped his head. Hatter couldn't stop his eyebrows from rocketing upward. _Highness_?

There were measured, clipped footsteps and then the woman appeared in Hatter's range of vision. She was tall and lean, every sweep and curve pronounced by the almost sinfully tight black leather dress she wore. Jet black hair hung to her waist, tied in a loose plait that at least half of the strands had escaped from. "Thank you for keeping an eye on him for me," she said to Gryphon, not even bothering to spare a glance for her captive. "He does have a nasty habit of vanishing. Your payment is with the guard in the hall."

Gryphon bowed his head respectfully again, smiled at Hatter – who returned it with a glower – and then left the room the same way the woman must have entered it. The woman pivoted smoothly in her stiletto boots and the moment Hatter saw her face, he let out a startled gasp.

She was beautiful, in an oddly terrifying sort of way. Everything about her, from her stature to the angles of her long face to her piercing glare, gave off an air of power and control. But the part that shocked him to his core were her eyes; they had no irises, so the pinprick black pupils were the only thing to break the sleek whiteness. He'd never met one in person, but he remembered the descriptions from his textbooks.

"You're a White!" Hatter exclaimed. "But you lot all died out ages ago."

"I'm sure the Queen of Hearts would have liked you to think that," the woman responded drolly. "That usurper was never powerful enough to eradicate us. Not we, whose lineage goes back to the creation of Wonderland itself."

Hatter let out a staggered breath. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. All his life he'd thought that the White line had been wiped out when the Queen of Hearts rose to power and took control of Wonderland. Meeting Charlie, the delusional White Knight, had been the first indication he'd ever gotten that the old Kingdom he'd heard stories of had ever actually existed in the first place. And now here he was, face-to-face with an honest to cards White.

"Now, Hatter, I think it's about time we got down to business," the woman said. There was a dangerous purr in her tone that made the little hairs on the back of his neck prickle in warning. "You have something that I want."

"I can't 'magine that," Hatter replied flippantly. "I don't really 'ave much to m'name unless you're lookin' for a nice hat."

The smile that the woman gave him dropped a weight into the pit of his stomach. There was no warmth or humour in that smile, nothing but malice and power. "Hardly, Mr Hatter. You have Time."

"Come again?" Hatter asked in confusion. "Time, you say? Well, I've got a l'il, but not much. Promised Alice I'd be there for 'er mum's birthday dinner this weekend and all. Can't break that promise or I'll be sleepin' on the sofa for a year."

"I'm not the person to joke with," she said coolly. "And this is not the ideal situation for you to be testing your luck."

Hatter smirked. "An' that's ever stopped me before?" he asked sarcastically. "Really, if you knew anythin' about me, you'd know that."

"I know the only thing I need to know about you," she replied. "You're a Hatter."

"And yet I don't even know who you are," he pointed out, stalling.

The woman drew herself up proudly. "I'm Princess of the White Kingdom, and a Knight of Wonderland," she recited.

Hatter hummed thoughtfully even as his brain whirred.  _Princess?_  She wasn't just any White, she was descended from the central line. "Tha's a mouthful. Got a nickname?" She twisted her arm to reveal a tattoo on her inner arm, and Hatter's stomach lurched.

"The Unicorn," they both said at the same time.

Her eyes narrowed as she regarded him. "You say that like you've heard of me," she observed.

Hatter forced his composed expression back into place. "Just whispers and rumours," he said. "One o' the perks of runnin' a tea shoppe."

"Then perhaps you've heard why they call me the Unicorn," she continued, and her tone had gone silkily malicious once again.

"Your mum thought it was pretty," he suggested.

The Unicorn rolled her eyes. "Whites aren't  _given_  names," she said disdainfully. "We are addressed by our titles until we earn a name for ourselves." The look she fixed him with gave him the impression of a large cat with a mouse whose tail was trapped beneath its paw, toying with it disinterestedly until its little heart burst with fear. He didn't particularly enjoy being the mouse.

"Right. Well, maybe because you're not supposed to exist anymore, then," he guessed lazily.

This time, she laughed. "Oh really, Hatter, is that the best your mad mind can come up with?" She almost sounded disappointed. Hatter didn't waste any breath taking any more pointless guesses, so she stooped and drew something from within her knee-length boot. It looked at first like a regular dagger, but something about the strange shape made him look closer. The blade was a long and narrow point, with a groove that curled up its length. With a jolt, he realised it was a silver horn attached to a hilt.

"Is that a real unicorn's horn?" he asked in awe.

"Designed it myself," said the Unicorn, tracing her fingers over it lovingly. "The horn was in our family's trophy case, just gathering dust, but I saw what a fitting weapon it would make. I became 'The Unicorn.'"

"Tha's a bit to the point," Hatter said dismissively, "but I s'pose it works."

"Oh it works just fine," she said. The sinister smile that crossed her lips was the only warning Hatter got before she lunged forward and the point of the horn touched the hollow at the base of his throat. It had barely pierced the skin, but he stopped himself from swallowing, just in case. "And it's very 'to the point.'"

For perhaps the first time in his life, Hatter bit his tongue and kept his snappy retort to himself. Even he wasn't stupid enough to taunt someone who held a unicorn's horn at his throat. Stories said they could drive straight through stone without a scratch, so he didn't want to imagine what it would do to his oesophagus.

The Unicorn smiled, knowing that she'd won. "So tell me, Hatter; where is Time?"

"I dunno what you mean," he said honestly. Her grip tightened on the hilt of the dagger, and he winced. "I'm serious, Princess Trigger 'appy. I 'ave no idea what you're talkin' 'bout."

She withdrew the blade – Hatter finally succumbed to the frightened swallow that had been lodged in the vicinity of his Adam's apple – and eyed him suspiciously. His dark blood discoloured the glistening weapon as it rolled down through the groove. "I see," she said, in a tone that suggested exactly the opposite. "Well, perhaps I can find a way to make you  _understand_." 

The blade plunged into his left shoulder and Hatter screamed.

* * *

_"Wake up, little Oyster."_

Alice blinked blearily as the voice echoed in her ears. Instead of seeing Hatter's sleeping face, or her bedside table, she found herself staring at the gap beneath the chest-of-drawers. So that's where her other purple slipper had gotten to... But why was she lying on the floor?

"Hatter." The fog was lifting, little by little, and the details started to snap back into place with startling clarity. Whatever had put her to sleep must be running its course. She pushed herself up to her knees, and her arm throbbed painfully at the movement. She checked the scratches that wrapped around her upper arm; they were long but shallow. The blood hadn’t clotted in them yet so she couldn’t have been out for long.

"Hatter?" she shouted, but there was no response. The only signs of a disturbance lay in the wrinkled area rug and the thick cracks in the doorframe. When she looked closer, she could just make out a streak of scarlet blood on the floorboard where Hatter had fallen. Her stomach churned as her eyes swept around the room for any other sign of the men, but there was nothing except for the faint scent of something musky hanging in the air.

Her muscles still felt sore, like she'd just run a marathon, but Alice clambered to her feet and darted for the door. The living room was undisturbed, all except for the still opened front door. Her bare feet stung as she staggered down the metal staircase on the side of the shop building and onto the concrete walk. The streets were deserted at this time of night, and there was nothing to give her any idea of where the man had taken Hatter.

"Damn it," she hissed, stomping her foot in frustration. She stepped in something cool and sticky, and instinctively she looked down. There was a dark spot on the sidewalk. Kneeling down, she touched it and examined her fingertips in the light cast off by the streetlamp. "Blood." She cast her eyes around until she found a second spot, a few feet to the left. Her heart leapt, and she raced over to it.

It was hard work, picking out the ruby spots on the shadowy concrete, but she bolted from one patch to another hopefully. They were becoming further and further apart, and smaller and smaller. The path travelled over a few blocks, around corners, and finally into an alleyway. She dodged from one to the next, and then abruptly she collided with a solid brick wall.

"What the...?" She placed her hands against the wall and looked around, but there was nothing. The alley had turned into a dead end, without even a hole or a mirror or any indication of where they could have gone. "No." She slammed her palms on the wall, feeling the bricks scrape her skin roughly. "No. No!"

There was no clue as to where they were, but deep down she knew there was only one place they could be:  _Wonderland_.

Turning around, Alice ran the four blocks back to the flat. She slid on the floor as she threw herself beneath the dining table. Hatter had shown her where he'd hidden the Stone of Wonderland, and she rubbed her fingers along until she found the faint groove between two boards. She dug her nails into the gap and pried it loose, coughing at the little puff of dusty air that came up when she tossed it aside. There it was, the little ring box with its hidden catch, tucked into a shadowy corner of the opening.

"Gotcha," she growled and snatched it out. She made to stick it in her pocket only to realise she wasn't even wearing trousers. She had been running around in her pyjamas, which comprised of nothing but one of Hatter's over-large shirts. A swell of embarrassment swept over her as she realised she had been racing around the neighbourhood in practically nothing. In the bedroom, she traded out her shirt for a pair of jeans and a comfortable blouse with short sleeves because her upper arm was tender to the touch. She put on a pair of sensible trainers – she didn't want to get caught running around Wonderland in her heeled boots again – and then grabbed the ring box.

At the front door, she hesitated long enough to lock up the flat behind her and then turned away. She didn't know exactly when she'd be back, but she wasn't about to come back without her Hatter.

The self-storage centre was deserted so early in the morning, the guard in the sentry box fast asleep at his desk. Alice slipped passed him quietly, punched in the security code, and let herself into the rows of metal storage sheds. After Hatter's arrival, they had moved the mirror out of the old warehouse for safety. It had been kept in the basement of Hatter's shop for a few months until the business picked up and they needed the space for supplies. The storage shed had been Alice's idea, keeping the mirror safe and locked away from prying eyes, with the added bonus of putting some extra space between her and the portal. It was dormant, but that didn't mean she trusted it.

Alice wound her way through the rows until she found the correct door; number 4-1, chosen because it was the date of Hatter's birthday in this world. The heavy padlock was still secured through the loop on the door, meaning the man who had taken Hatter couldn't have come through here. It made no sense, but she couldn't think of any better options, so she unlocked the door and stepped inside, shutting the door carefully behind her. She took a deep breath and then flipped the little switch on the wall.

The stark yellow lightbulb in the ceiling flared into life, and Alice's heart stuttered in her chest when she found herself facing the mirror. It looked exactly the way she remembered it, propped up against the wall behind a few stray cardboard boxes of belongings they hadn't had room for in the flat. She stared down her reflection, taking in her pale skin and the wild light in her eyes. Somehow, in the mirror, she looked braver than she felt. But she had to do this. She had to find him.

Putting the ring on her right hand, Alice reached out and placed her palm against the glass. For a second it held, but then it rippled beneath her fingertips and gave way. It worked. This was it.  _Remember to breathe._  Inhaling deeply, she jumped forward through the surface of the mirror.

The world pitched around her. Even though she'd gone in feet-first, she felt like she must be falling face-forward. Not that she could really tell, because she wasn't quite certain which way was up anymore. An intangible wind whipped her hair around her face, and even though she knew she was screaming, she couldn't even hear it inside of her own head. Violet and blue and grey and white and green, all twirling and twisting until her head was spinning.

Her feet hit the ground hard and she stumbled, landing on her hands and knees. Alice groaned as pain lanced through her joints. She was still struggling to catch her breath when a voice spoke from above her.

"Stay where you are!"

Alice sat up on her heels and found herself staring straight down the barrel of a gun.


	5. Aid and Abet

Alice lifted her hands up instinctively. The gun in her face was held by a large man in a familiar style of clean-cut black suit, an ornate white spade and the number five emblazoned on his chest. There was another off to her right, and she could sense more behind her.  _Suits._

"Don't shoot, please," she said, her voice stiff with anxiety. "I'm Alice Hamilton. I need to see Jack Heart."

"Wait, stand down!" a voice from behind her cut in, and the man walked around to face her. He seemed to be considerably younger than the lead man – barely older than her by the looks of him – but he must have some authority because the other men all paused and turned their attention to him. "Put your guns down," he commanded immediately, grabbing the lead man's gun and shoving it downward. "That's Alice-of-Legend. Stand down!"

The safeties clicked back onto the guns as they lowered them and Alice let out a grateful breath. The second man stepped forward, and she saw the number eight on his lapel. "My apologies, Lady Alice," he said. He held a fist over his heart and inclined his head respectfully. "You startled us, that's all."

"Did you see the men who came here earlier?" she asked. "Two of them. Hatter and this big man in a trenchcoat."

"There was no one," Eight said, looking confused. "No one's even been inside this room except for us guards. You're the first person to come through the Glass since all of the Oysters went back after the Collapse." 

Alice huffed in frustration. So how had Gryphon gotten through to her world? How had he brought Hatter back through? She knew he hadn't come through the mirror on her end, but she had hoped perhaps that whatever way he'd gone through had at least let out at the same place.

Alice accepted the hand the Suit offered to her and got to her feet. "I need to see Jack, immediately," she said.

"Of course, Lady Alice," the suit said. "I'll take you there personally." He addressed the Five. "The Looking Glass will still have a bit of power left from her coming. Make sure no one else comes through. If they do, detain them and send word to the Deck immediately."

"Yes, sir," Five replied and bowed his head.

"If you'll follow me," said the Eight, and then started walking. Alice trailed him out of the large concrete bunker and came out at an open square she didn't recognise, but she did remember the vehicle parked there: a Scarab. Somewhere in the back of her mind, it occurred to her that this was the first time she'd ever entered a Scarab of her own volition. Eight ordered the pilot into action and then joined her in the cab.

"Lady Alice, I must say, it's a real honour to meet you," Eight added. "I barely caught a sight of you the last you were here. Everyone's still talking about it."

Alice nodded, hardly paying attention. Her mind was occupied with Hatter. He and that man Gryphon didn't come through the Looking Glass, so how had they done it? They _had_ come to Wonderland, hadn't they? Where else could they have gone? Either way, Gryphon knew Hatter from here. If anyone could help her find them, it would be the King of Wonderland. It had to be.

Her eyes panned out to the large front window. They were over the lake and just seeing it triggered old memories – falling from the Honeycomb boxes; racing across the water in a rickety smuggling boat; clinging to Hatter's waist as they blazed a trail through the sky on a Flamingo.

While the lake looked much the same, the area around it had changed. The city looked to be in even worse condition than when she'd left. A few of the buildings had crumbled to the ground, and those that still stood wore a thick air of neglect. Most noticeable was the absence of the Casino on the skyline. In its place, she could just make out a cluster of low buildings, or at least low by Wonderland standards. They looked to be some sort of utilitarian apartment complexes, all centred around one enormous, glistening skyscraper that jabbed up into the sky like a shard of glass.

"Is that where we're going?" asked Alice.

"The castle district," Eight responded with a nod. "His Majesty built it over the ruins of the old Casino, to wipe it away. Can't use the original palace because it's too far from the sad city now. It's still mostly just the royal families at the mo, but the plan is to expand it to a full city once everything is under control."

"Under control?" she pressed curiously. "Is there something wrong?"

"Just getting people to adjust to the regime change," he said with a nonchalant shrug. "A lot of the city people, especially the wealthy ones, were still supporters of the Queen. But they've been coming around gradually, you'll see."

Alice regarded the man next to her thoughtfully. He was casually attractive, with a sort of youthful energy buzzing beneath his formal posture. A wisp of hair, toeing that line between blonde and brown, had broken free of his swept back style, curling gently over his forehead. His eyes were a strikingly pale grey, almost silver in the light reflecting off the Scarab's dash, and they lacked the vague disinterest she was accustomed to seeing on men of his rank. "You talk a lot for a Suit," she remarked. "The ones I knew almost never spoke."

To her surprise, Eight grinned, a playful, boyish slant of his lips. "Things have changed a lot since you left," he said. "It's mostly from the Teas. Once those went away, real emotions came out." He paused and added, "The detox was rough on the city, though. That's why they brought in people like me; people who weren't drinkers. We helped keep things from getting out of hand."

"You were part of the rebellion," she concluded.

"Started with my parents," he agreed. "I grew up in the Great Library, lived there until I was old enough to go out and help. Little things like scouting and delivering messages. I was actually at the Casino the day you brought it down, barely made it out before the whole thing came down."

The Scarab shuddered as it started to descend toward an open paddock beside the skyscraper. Alice found herself clutching the back of the pilot's chair for support; she still hated heights. Her fingers were aching with the effort by the time they touched down.

Eight ushered her from the Scarab and through a set of bright red revolving doors. The lobby reminded her of a business building back home, with directory plaques hung on the walls and a receptionist in a diamond-print dress behind the front desk.

People stared as they cut a path to the lifts and Alice shifted uncomfortably. Several of them must have recognised her because they placed their fists over their hearts and bowed their heads. It made her uneasy. The last time she'd been here, she'd been safest when she _wasn't_ being recognised. That obviously wasn't an option anymore.

They rode the lift up to the top floor and stepped out into another lobby lined with at least a half-dozen very intimidating Suits. "Tell the King that Lady Alice-of-Legend is here and requests an audience," Eight announced. She couldn't be sure whether it was his authority or her name, but the furthest Suit instantly turned and went through the double doors at the end of the hall. There was a tentative silence as the Suits watched her from the corners of their eyes and Alice fidgeted with the Stone of Wonderland on her finger just to be doing something.

Abruptly, the Suit came back out into the hall and gestured for her to enter. Alice had to fight to keep herself calm as she crossed the room and passed through the double doors.

It was a bit of a shock since she had been expecting a throne room, but she had entered some sort of personal sitting room. The whole place was decorated in classic blacks, whites, and reds, and filled with plush sofas and a glossy obsidian coffee table. Jack was standing on the other side of the table, and when their eyes met, she couldn't stop herself. She was just so scared and so alone, and it was such a relief to finally see a familiar face. She rushed across the room and into his arms.

"Alice!" he said, clearly stunned even as he embraced her. "What are you doing here?"

"I need your help, Jack," she said. "He took Hatter, and I need to find him."

Jack stepped back to survey her face. "Who did? What happened?" He frowned and then ushered her to the nearest sofa. "Tell me what happened."

Alice sat down beside him on the sofa and started from the beginning when Hatter had woken her because he'd heard a noise. She described the short conversation between the two men, Hatter's warning that the man was 'dosed,' and the fighting that followed. "And then I just started feeling heavy and tired," she explained. "He was carrying Hatter out when I passed out."

"This happened after he scratched you?" Jack asked, touching her upper arm lightly. The cuts had finally scabbed, but the skin around them was pink and swollen. "His nails must have been dosed, that's how he did it."

"What do you mean, dosed?" she asked. "Like with drugs?"

"Similar, yeah," he agreed. "Or the Wonderland equivalent. When he scratched you, it was put straight into your bloodstream. Takes effect faster that way than drinking it."

The answer pieced itself together in her mind with a distinctive click. "Emotions," she said coldly. "That's your drugs here in Wonderland. The emotions you drain from us."

"I don't know how these Teas are still in existence, Alice," he said, and there was earnestness behind his usual stoic tone. "We destroyed all of our stores once we started to detox the city, and even any contraband stocks out there would be used up by now. Whatever's happening here, I've got nothing to do with it."

Alice grimaced but nodded in understanding. "Hatter called the man Gryphon," she said. Jack's jaw twitched. "You know him. Who is he? Where can I find him?

"He's something of a mercenary," said Jack. "He does odd jobs for people, mostly retrieving things or people. The Rebellion used to hire him on occasion until we found out his allegiance lay only with whoever could pay the best. We lost a lot of good men when my mother bought him out."

"How do I find him?" Alice repeated irritably.

"You don't," Jack answered flatly. "No one knows where to find him. When you need him, he finds you."

"I need to know where he took Hatter," she all but growled in frustration.

Jack put what was clearly supposed to be a pacifying hand on her shoulder. "I'll send some of my men out. They will find out who hired the Gryphon. You stay here until we get some information."

"No," she said, shaking off his hand and standing up. "I know someone else who can find him. Where's Charlie?"

* * *

Hatter hummed gratefully as he felt something soft and cool touch his aching forehead. "Mm, Alice," he moaned. His whole body hurt. "I fall down the stairs 'gain?"

"Bit worse than that, I'm afraid, sir." That wasn't Alice. Hatter's eyes snapped open, but the movement instantly sent a shockwave through his head that forced him to shut them again. "Easy, like. You're in a pretty sad state."

Hatter opened his eyes again, more slowly this time. It took a second to adjust to the light, but his self-preservation instincts drove him to get his bearings. He was in a large room, sterile and white. It was hard to make out more than that because he seemed to be lying down. Nothing except a blank white ceiling stretching on for metres until it met the blank white walls that filled his peripherals.

The damp coolness touched his forehead again and Hatter twitched, although he immediately regretted it. "Hold still, would you?" His eyes switched to the person standing beside him – looming over him which meant she was standing beside where he was lying, except no, with that sort of height her knees must be level with his body – even as his sluggish mind told him that this should've been the first place he looked. _Always know your enemy._  Except she didn't look like an enemy.

It was a young girl, barely out of her teens, with simple features. Her head was shaven clean, but her small eyes were pale green and gentle even as she stared him down. Not a White, then. She nearly blended in with the walls, however, in her white tunic and trousers. She hardened her lips into a line and lifted what turned out to be a damp washrag to his head again. "Stop pitching about. I'm nearly finished," she said and started wiping his brow gently.

"Who-?" His throat felt like it had been burnt, and he coughed from the mere effort of the word. Every cough sent another painful spasm through his body, and it brought tears to his eyes.

"Easy. Easy now," the girl said and went back to tending to his face. "Nearly finished, and then I'll get you something to drink."

He tried again, and this time got the words out. "Who're you?"

"I'm not important, sir," she responded, and her expression had gone stern again. "Just a Pawn. Now stop talking. Save your voice." Hatter's every neurone was begging him to keep asking questions, to learn what was going on, but he was just too tired and too weak. Memories from earlier were coming back to him, and he knew he was lucky to be alive. Or perhaps, judging by the caregiving and the fact that he was still restrained, it had nothing to do with luck at all.

"There, much better," the girl declared after a few minutes and she nodded. In the corner of his eye, Hatter noticed that the rag she lifted away from the side of his jaw was stained red. "Let's get you some water." She disappeared for a second, and then returned with another clean rag in her hands. She lifted it above his lips and twisted it, letting the little trails of water drip into his mouth. Hatter swallowed it gratefully, feeling it relieve some of the stinging in his throat, and then licked his lips to make sure he'd gotten all of it. Distantly, he registered that his lip was cracked – when had that happened?

"There, now that that's done..." The girl's voice tapered off, and she vanished again. There was a loud click, and Hatter watched the panels in the ceiling above him sliding aside with a hum. When it stopped, he was facing an enormous, full-length mirror. It was simple and almost clinical in design, at odds with his reflection.

He really was in a bit of a state. His body was prone on the pristine white floor, with thick metal cuffs pinning his wrists and ankles to the ground. He was still wearing only the boxer shorts he'd gone to bed in, and the wounds he'd gotten were clearly visible on his now cleaned skin. There were dozens of cuts all over his body, done with meticulous precision. The scratches on the side of his neck and face from Gryphon were still swollen but looked free of infection so far. Worst of all, though, was the hole bored through his left shoulder, a tiny glimmer of white bone showing in the deep centre of the red flesh and muscle.

Hatter's stomach might have turned if there'd been anything in it. In the detached, practical part of his mind, he figured he hadn't eaten in at least a full day now. How much longer before it made him ill? He couldn't think about that right now. "What'd you do to m'shoulder?" he asked curiously. "S'not bleedin'."

"Bandaging spray," the girl responded. "Makes a seal over it to stop bleeding."

"Tha's handy," he said idly. "Where'd she go? The Unicorn."

"To dinner, I think," the girl said. "I'm not sure, though. They just brought you in and told me to get you fixed up."

"Means she'll be back for me," Hatter concluded grimly. "Joy."

He couldn't be sure, but he thought he may have seen the slightest smile on the girl's lips as she turned away from him. Not sure what to make of it, he tucked that information away for later.

His gaze flickered back up to his reflection, and his eyebrow peaked quizzically. The kohl-lining around his eyes was back. He'd had it as long as he could remember - born with it maybe, although he couldn't be sure - but it had vanished when he'd gone through the looking glass. In Alice's world, he'd had to use a little pencil to get it back, and it had quickly become more trouble than it was worth. It had been so long now that its appearance caught him off guard, but the small amount of familiarity in his otherwise battered reflection was comforting. There was some little piece of him still there beneath it all.

The bald girl came back to him, pulling him out of scanning his reflection for other familiar features. She was carrying some sort of little spray bottle. "Medicine," she said to his unasked question. "To stop you from getting an infection. Take a deep breath."

He didn't have a second to ask what she meant by that before she had pointed the bottle at his face and squeezed the trigger. The mist burst from the nozzle as he inhaled to speak, and it itched as it filled his lungs. "Bloody kettle breaker," he snapped irritably and then coughed again. "Bit of warning next time, yeah?"

Something seemed to sparkle in the girl's eyes, and she actually laughed. "Well, I did tell you to take a breath, didn't I?" she pointed out. Still, she lifted the damp rag again and let him drink from it until his throat eased. "Why don't you talk?"

Hatter quirked an eyebrow. "Most say I talk t'much."

"I meant to the princess," the girl said, and her voice had turned earnest. "Why won't you tell her what she wants to know? This would all end if you did."

"Simple," he replied. "I dunno the answers."

The girl frowned. "Of course you do," she insisted. "You're a Hatter. You've got to know where he's at. The Hatters always have."

"Who?" asked Hatter.

"Time."

Hatter stared at her, waiting for her to say that she was joking, but she looked completely serious. "Time?" he echoed. "Hold on, you sayin' this Time she's looking for is a _person_?"

The girl's brow furrowed as she stared at him, and he got the feeling she was waiting for him to admit he was kidding just the same way he'd done with her. She opened her mouth to answer, but something beeped loudly, and she started. She lifted her arm and checked a band around her wrist, and then shook her head. "I'm sorry, sir, but I've got to go. Rest now, while you can."

"Wait!" Hatter objected, but she had sprayed another mist into his face, and as he breathed it in, he felt the world slip away into darkness again.


	6. Submission

"Alice, don't be foolish."

Alice snorted and shook off Jack's hand again. "Where is Charlie?" she repeated. "He can find Hatter. He can find anyone."

"You can't just go wandering around Wonderland," Jack insisted. "It's not safe for you out there. There are still people clinging to the old ways, and they will see you as nothing but a source for Tea. Especially once they see that." He took Alice's wrist, and she glanced down as he twisted it so her forearm was facing up. A familiar green and black tattoo was dark on her skin, and her heart jumped.

"Where'd that come from?" she asked, jerking her arm out of his grip and running her fingers over the blemish. "What'd you do to me?"

"The Glow doesn't come off, Alice," said Jack, still the ever-calm king. "You can't see it in your world, but it never goes away. Now that you're back on this side of the Looking Glass, it has resurfaced. Which means that if you go out into the city, there will be people after you. Please, you have to stay here."

"No," she said firmly. "No, I have to find Hatter. Now tell me, where is Charlie? Is he still living in the forest? Or did he move here?"

Jack sighed and rolled his eyes. "I will tell you on one condition," he said. "You don't go out there alone. If I let you leave this place, you're taking some of my men with you."

"No," she protested before she had even considered why.

"Then you're not leaving," Jack said as if that settled things.

"You're going to stop me?" Alice challenged, raising an eyebrow.

"If that's what I have to do to keep you safe, then yes," he said unconcernedly. "I will have you detained if I must."

Alice narrowed her eyes dangerously. "You wouldn't dare."

Not breaking their staring contest, Jack raised his voice and shouted, "Suits!" The door burst open with a crash that made Alice jump slightly. All of the Suits from the hall rushed in, weapons drawn. "I give these men one command," Jack continued as if there'd been no interruption, "and you will be confined to this room until I say otherwise."

A flicker of movement caught her attention; the Eight who'd brought her from the mirror had lowered his gun slightly, a look of shock crossing his face. It only lasted a split second, but it gave her an idea. "Please, Jack," she tried one last time. "It's Hatter."

Jack's expression softened. "I know, and I am truly sorry," his voice was so sincere it almost caught her off guard, "but your safety is still my first priority."

Alice sighed in defeat before changing tracks. "I'll never be able to find him with a tonne of these guys following me around. They would see us coming from miles away, everyone will know I'm important with a private army on my tail. So just one then."

"One?" Jack laughed, but his expression came across more as concerned. "You expect me to let you wander around Wonderland with just one Suit for protection?"

"If it's a really good one, yes," replied Alice. "Someone you can trust, who's been by your side the whole time." She paused to let the words sink in, and triumph curled in her stomach when she saw a hint of something give in his blue eyes. "Someone like," she spun and pointed, "him."

"Me, Lady Alice?" asked the Eight, his gun dropping clean to his side in surprise.

"I can defend myself," Alice barrelled on before anyone could object. "You know that. What I need is someone who knows Wonderland. He worked in the Rebellion, he's got a clear head, and he's smart. He's the sort of guy who can get me across Wonderland safe, without drawing attention, and you know it."

Jack's jaw was locked, but behind the stoic façade, she could tell that he was considering it. Finally, he let out an irritated huff. "And if I say no?" he posed.

"Then I will escape and go on my own," said Alice. "You know I will. I got pretty good at that while I was here."

"Fine," said Jack, clinging to some semblance of his regal nature even while he was clearly frustrated. _Airs and graces_ , she remembered Hatter calling it. He fixed his gaze on Eight. "You are to accompany Lady Alice to visit the White Knight. No detours, keep a low profile, and keep her safe, no matter the cost. Understood?"

"Yes, your majesty," Eight replied and bowed.

Alice stepped forward and hugged Jack. "Thank you," she said, and she felt some of the tension leave his arms as he returned the gesture. "I'll be back in a few days. You'll see."

"You had better be," he said stiffly, but there was something like fondness in his eyes. Alice gave his hand one last squeeze, and then turned and followed Eight out of the door. They didn't talk until they stepped into the lift and Eight hit the 'down' button.

"Why me, Lady Alice?" he asked abruptly.

Alice looked up at him and smiled. "Because I have to find Hatter and I think you're the only one who will actually help me do that," she answered. "And because you won't stop me when I do something Jack wouldn't like."

"Why do I have a feeling that part is going to start really soon?" Eight asked, slightly exasperated, and Alice chuckled. "Very well, milady. To the Forest of Wabe then."

"No, not just yet," she said. The lift stopped, and the doors dinged faintly as they opened. "We've got one stop we need to make first."

Eight did a quick double-step to catch up with her once she started walking. "Where's that?"

Alice glanced around at the Suits loitering in the lobby and didn't respond. She waited until they were outside of the building and beyond the earshot of anyone who might report back to Jack. "The old Tea Shoppe," said Alice. She didn't miss the look of surprise that crossed Eight's face. "There are some things stowed away there that I need to grab first."

"If you say so," said Eight, falling into stride with her and adjusting his tie. When Alice glanced sideways at him, she noticed that he no longer looked wary. There was a light in his expression, the same look she'd seen on his face that made her trust him in the first place. It was a familiar spark of adventure, the one that had glowed behind Hatter's eyes and that had kept them both alive.

"What's your name?" Alice asked curiously. Eight lifted an eyebrow. "I've just been calling you by your number in my head. Do you have a proper name?"

"Rory," he said with a smile. "Rory Capricorn. And I must say, Lady Alice-of-Legend, I have a feeling it's going to be a real pleasure to know you."

* * *

Hatter woke up panicking before his brain even fully registered why he was so afraid. He was back in the first room, the one of the black-and-white swirls. Still in his underwear, judging by the chill. Back in the stiff-backed chair with the leather straps holding him in place, only this time there was a thick band across his forehead, keeping him from so much as looking around, and another one across the lower half of his face that locked his jaw in place like a muzzle.

The panic took over ten-fold. He couldn't move and he couldn't even so much as call for help. He was trapped, helpless and defenceless. Just like back then; just like when the Chemists had taken him away. _Keep calm,_ he told himself harshly.  _You're not there. Think of something good. Alice. Think of Alice._

Even focusing all of his attention on Alice – the grey-blue of her eyes, his favourite periwinkle dress and cranberry stockings, her teasing smile – he still couldn't stop himself from being scared. And that made him angry.

"Are you ready to talk yet?" The voice made Hatter grimace beneath the band of leather, and he growled deep in his throat. "I didn't think so." Her heeled boots clicked loudly on the marble as the Unicorn walked around to stand in front of him. She had traded out her dress for a pair of black pants and a fitted tunic that made her look, if possible, more sinister. She looked like a warrior. "Do you like my new addition?" she asked, tracing a fingernail across the strap on his mouth. "You do an awful lot of talking, and yet never seem to say anything. So this is how it will work now. You will give me the answers that I want _when_  I want them, or you won't talk at all. Understood?"

Hatter could tell she was taunting him with the question since he couldn't possibly answer her, so he simply stared her down defiantly. The Unicorn grit her teeth and abruptly backhanded him. The straps on his head stopped him from rolling with the hit, and the whole thing jarred his neck and left his cheekbone stinging from the silver ring on her second finger. She leant in and braced herself on his arms, putting her face right in his. "Understood?" she repeated venomously. Hatter still gave no indication that he'd so much as heard her. "Last chance," she warned. "Do you understand me?"

When Hatter still gave no recognition, she lifted her hands from his arms. He was about to let out a breath of relief – she'd been leaning on a row of cuts on his forearm – when she placed her palms on his shoulders and pushed. The pressure on his mutilated left shoulder seared like fire, and he screamed. It was muffled through the leather, but it echoed in his head until it blocked out everything else. Just pain and screaming.

It felt like hours when she finally let up. She straightened, and her palm was red; she'd broken the medical seal. "Now, let's try this one more time," said the Unicorn, tone conversational. "Do you understand me?"

Hatter stared back through watering eyes. Anger flashed through the Unicorn's face, and her hand reached for his shoulder. After a second of hesitation, he dropped his gaze in submission. He could _feel_ her satisfaction.

"That's more like it," she cooed, and instead of grabbing his shoulder, she caressed his cheek almost affectionately with her blood-streaking hand. He couldn't shy away, so he closed his eyes against the pseudo-intimate contact. "Now you're ready to answer my questions. We'll start with an easy one. What is your name?"

She reached out and undid the buckle, and the strap across his mouth fell away. Hatter stretched his jaw before answering. "David." He couldn't explain why exactly he gave that name, except maybe to spite her. It worked, because she jabbed her thumb into the hole in his shoulder, making choke on a scream.

"Your _real_ name," she demanded. "Your family name, not your stupid Oyster name."

"Hatter," he relented. "My name is David Hatter."

"A direct descendant of the Mad Hatter, correct?" she said. "The Mad Hatter of the old legends."

It took him a second to respond because he had never heard of his grandfather referred to as part of any legend. Except maybe from when he'd met the original Alice-of-Legend, but that was only in passing. As far as he'd known, his granddad had just been a mad old haberdasher. "I wouldn't know," he said. "Never met 'im. For all I know, Mum coulda been makin' up stories. She never was very right in the 'ead."

"No, you know it's true," she said smoothly. "You can hear it, can't you? The madness, ticking away in your brain. Words and phrases and images that make no sense. The legacy of the Hatters."

"Look, I dunno what you're afta but–"

The snap cut through the room as she slapped him. "Don't interrupt me," she snarled. Baring her teeth, she secured the leather strap back into place, tightening it an extra notch so that the leather cut into his skin and his teeth ached at the tension. His split lip broke and dripped blood into his mouth. "Maybe you're telling the truth. Maybe you don't know what I'm asking for. But that doesn't mean it's not in your head somewhere. You're a Hatter. I just need to find a way to get it out."

Hatter narrowed his eyes, scrutinising her in awe. This woman was completely mental. What was she going on about? "A long time ago, your ancestor made an enemy of a powerful person," the Unicorn continued. "Someone tied into the very core of creation. There was a curse placed upon him until he had learnt his lesson."

It suddenly clicked into place in Hatter's mind. All of the old stories that he'd heard, of the tea party that never ended and the clocks that never ticked. The Unicorn smiled at the look of comprehension in his eyes. "Yes, you know of whom I speak," she said. "The man who froze your ancestor in place for thousands of moonsets. It is said that they eventually repaired their differences, and the Mad Hatter passed into the void as his friend. The sole possessor of the secret: the location of Time. The knowledge that is hidden away in the minds of his lineage. In  _your_ mind."

None of this made sense. Those were only stories, told to frighten the little kids into behaving. _Respect your elders or time will have its revenge._ His mum had rambled them to him as a child, in between fits of madness, but he had never thought of them as anything more than bedtime stories and fairy tales. No one had. Time wasn't a person; it was just a thing. A thing, like air or sound or death.

But this woman believed the stories were real, and she thought that he knew where Time was hiding. That somehow his grandfather had told him where to find Time, even though they had never met. That's why she had brought him here. To find Time. But why?

The Unicorn drew his attention again by setting her hand on his chest, above his fiercely beating heart. "So tell me, Hatter. Where can I find dear old Time?"

"I dunno, honest," Hatter said the moment the strap had fallen away again. "Granddad never told me anythin'. I never even met 'im. He died–"

"Before you were born," the Unicorn finished for him. "I know."

"So even if he'd known, he couldn' 'ave told me," Hatter pointed out.

The Unicorn toyed with the buckle from the loose leather strap almost playfully. "I never said that he  _told_ you. I said that the answers were in your mind. You Hatters aren't normal, even by Wonderland standards. The madness is in your minds, in  _all_ of your minds. The knowledge is in your mind; we just need to get it out."

"What do you mean?" he asked, but before he could say anything else she had put the strap back into place.

"We just need to go a little deeper into your head, dear Hatter," she said and brushed her fingers through his hair. He snarled at the touch, the same gesture Alice used when she was comforting him. It brought Alice to the forefront of his mind and renewed his resolve. He wouldn't break. He would stay strong; stay the man who was good enough for his dear, brave Alice. He wouldn't disappoint her.

"You will respect me," she said, and the fingers in his hair fisted painfully. "Which means that first, you will fear me."

She walked around passed him, and when she came back, she was carrying something else that made the panic explode back to the front of his mind: a syringe. Suddenly, he was a small boy trapped by the Chemists again, watching them experiment on him with drugs from the Oysterworld. They were jabbing him with needles, making his blood burn like fire, and there was nothing he could do to stop them.

Just like there was nothing he could do to stop the Unicorn. His muscles ached with the effort of trying to pull himself free, but it was a worthless attempt. She buried the needle deep into the crook of his elbow and depressed the plunger, filling his veins with the yellow liquid.

"A lovely little concoction, this," she said casually, tracing a finger along the gleaming silver when she'd withdrawn it from his skin. "Pure, undiluted Fear. Mary Heart wasn't the only one who was draining the Oysters, although she went about it the stupid way. Why transfix people with the Good when you can dominate them with the Bad? And I've discovered that injecting it increases the effect. It doesn't get watered down in the stomach."

It had only been seconds, and already he could feel it taking hold. His heart was racing in his ears, and his stomach had knotted up into a metal fist. The terror that he felt at his situation duplicated, over and over. A whimper bubbled up his throat against his own volition, morphing halfway into a high whine. Darkness was teasing at the edges of his vision, blinding him to everything but the horrors in his head. 

Alone. Alone in the dark, with the needles and fire and experiments.

"Have fear," the Unicorn's voice hissed in his ear. "Dissolve into the Fear, Hatter, and know that it was my doing." That was the last thing he heard before his last link with reality faded, and he was trapped in his own head.


	7. Calling in the Cavalry

Rory the Suit navigated Wonderland City with the ease of someone who had spent a lot of time running around its elevated streets. As Alice followed behind him, hugging the walls as closely as possible, it was oddly reminiscent of her first trip there. Only this time, instead of chasing a battered leather jacket, it was a white dress shirt. Her heart panged longingly.

Still, she had to be grateful to Rory. He understood the need to keep a low profile – his suit jacket hung on her shoulders, so the long sleeves covered her Glow – and he'd led her through a series of mostly unpopulated paths straight through the city centre. "Just up here," he said over his shoulder. They went one more block and reached the old red phone box. Alice ran a hand along its cracked glass panes affectionately before looking over.

There was nearly nothing left of the old Tea Shoppe. The scrolling marquee had long-since fallen away, and most of the porch was broken clean off the building front. Alice stumbled over the wreckage as Rory led her inside. The sales floor was in even worse shape than the outside. It looked like it had been gutted down to a skeleton; even parts of the walls had been torn off to reveal the bare framework beneath it. Mud and dust caked everything, and there were a few piles of rubbish scattered at intervals around the floor.

"Squatter camps," said Rory when he saw her looking. "Uprooted Wonders find an empty building to set up in for a few nights. Probably picked the place hoping to stumble on some secret Tea cache. Doesn't look like any of these camps are fresh, though." Even as he said it, he released the safety on his handgun.

The office was just as destroyed. The furniture all appeared to have been used for firewood – despite most of it not being wood at all – and everything else was ransacked. The grass was trampled into mud, and the wildflowers had grown into a thick, scrubby forest. "Looks like whatever you wanted was taken a long time ago," said Rory, nudging aside a hunk of melted plastic that had once been Hatter's wardrobe with the toe of his shoe.

"No, it's still here," she said confidently. She crossed the room to one of the towering support pillars that stood in front of where the desk had once been. "Because if there's one thing that Hatter's really good at, it's protecting the things that are important to him." She reached up and rapped her knuckles on the panel, listening to the echo. Three more knocks at different heights and she suddenly smiled. "There it is."

Alice picked up a broken chair leg, and before Rory could finish forming his startled question, she swung it at the wall. The plaster cracked in a lopsided spider web. She hit the spot one more time and then wedged her fingers into the ridge. White plaster peeled free in big, jagged chunks that shattered on the floor where she dropped them. The hole in the wall revealed an enormous black lock box, which she opened with her hairpin the way Hatter had taught her one night when they were bored.

The first thing she saw when she opened it was a worse-for-the-wear straw pork pie and the violet coat she'd worn on her last trip to Wonderland. The hat was sitting on top of the coat, which was carefully folded on top of everything and looked exactly the way it had when she'd taken it off all those months ago. She pulled it out and fingered the velvet fondly, finding the little tear on the hem where it had caught on a tree while running from the Jabberwock. There was no hesitation when she exchanged Rory’s jacket for the violet one, and then set the slightly-too-large hat on her head. It slid down to her ears, but there was something oddly comforting about it.

Beneath that were the things she'd actually come for; a handgun with a spare clip, a handful of gold coins and rings, a sturdy pocket knife with a proper lock-picking tool. She curiously sorted through the other things. Most of them seemed to be odd little trinkets. There was a pair of china teacups, the painted design faded by time, and one of them had a chipped handle. Two leather-bound books were stacked beneath a little wooden box. When she opened it, she saw a tarnished golden locket embellished with a lily blossom. She traced the delicate design of the freckled petals with a fingernail, wondering where it had come from. There was something odd about it, something almost electric that made the hairs on the back of her neck prickle in anticipation. Whatever it was, it must have been important for Hatter to stash it away. She hung it around her neck and tucked the pendant beneath the collar of her shirt for safekeeping.

Curious, she flicked through the two books. The first was printed, embellished, and seemed to be full of poems and nursery rhymes. She put it back and opened the other. This one was clearly done by hand and filled with pages of sketches. There were places – both ones that she recognised and plenty she didn't – and figures. Some were people, some monsters, and some so indistinct she couldn't be sure what they were. She did, however, recognise the cramped handwriting of the little notations squeezed in between the drawings.  _Hatter_.

It felt like an intrusion of his privacy to look at them, and she nearly put it back in the safe. Then she turned a page and found a hand-drawn map of the lake area and the small, remnants of villages near it. There were several places shaded in, and off to the side he'd written ' _Dangerous_.' Decided, she tucked the book into an inner pocket of her coat, just in case. "Okay, we can go now," she announced, locking up the safe.

Rory didn't ask any questions, although she could see them burning in his eyes, and led her from the building. "Sir Charles has relocated back to the Forest of Wabe," he said, offering her a hand to help her over the crumbled remains of the front porch. "He lived in the castle district for a short while after the Collapse, but then the king had him reassigned to defend the ruins of the Ancient Kingdom and the grave of the Fallen. Personally, I think he did it to make Sir Charles happy. It was obvious he didn't much like the city. Either that, or he did it so Sir Charles would stop talking so much."

Alice chuckled at the thought. She could just imagine the senile old knight yammering on until the king's ears bled. Honestly, it seemed not only possible but highly likely. She imagined Hatter's response to that – probably some sarcastic ribbing that would leave Charlie huffing indignantly and calling him a lot of derogatory names that made no sense. The thought sent a pain through her chest so powerful that her breath caught in her throat.

"Do you know who Gryphon is?" she asked the back of Rory's head.

"Heard of him, but I've never actually met him, at least so far as I know," he responded. "I always thought he was something of a myth. Why?" His brow furrowed as he looked over his shoulder at her. "You said that the Hatter was taken. Is it the Gryphon who took him?"

Alice nodded and anxiously toyed with the sleeves of her coat. "Do you know anything about him?"

"Well, I do know one thing," Rory said, and he turned to face her completely. "If he had been hired to kill, he would've done it then and there. That means whoever wanted the Hatter wants him alive. He's out there, Lady Alice. We'll find him."

The smallest of smiles touched her face at Rory's earnestness. "Thank you."

Rory smiled in silent acknowledgement. "This way," he said. "We're nearly there." Two more blocks and a very tall ladder put them at the top of a wide building. The roof had been cleared, and a line of Flamingos was parked along the opposite ledge.

"Oh no," moaned Alice, coming to an abrupt stop.

Rory paused, already halfway to the Flamingos. "What is it?" he asked in confusion.

"I just have a thing about heights," she admitted.

"Oh." Rory hesitated and stared at the Flamingos critically. "I'm sorry, milady, but this is the fastest way. The Ancient Kingdom is on the other side of the lake. If we go by foot, it'll take at least an extra day, maybe more."

"I know," said Alice. "Just – give me a second."

"Of course," he agreed. "When you're ready." He walked over to one of the Flamingos and gave the mechanics a quick check before boarding. Alice took a deep breath and pulled the coat tighter around herself. She could do this. Anything to get her Hatter back safely.

Before she could lose her nerve, she jogged over and climbed on behind Rory. He seemed startled – there were three more perfectly functional Flamingos parked there – but when she said, "Go," he nodded and hit the red button. The Flamingo took off with a lurch. Alice's false bravado fled as they soared off into the open air above the lake. She fisted one hand in Rory's jacket, clinging on for dear life, and the other she used to stop Hatter's hat from flying off her head.

She wouldn't have heard Rory's laugh if her face wasn't buried in his back. "You weren't kidding," he teased, steadying the Flamingo over an updraft.

"Shut up," she snapped into his jacket.

Even though the trip was short and much smoother than any of her previous trips, she couldn't help but sigh in relief when they landed on a stretch of beach beside the forest. It took a second to regain control of her legs, and then she looked around. They weren't exactly opposite the city, but she could no longer see the castle district behind the towering city skyline.

"It's straight into the sunset from here," said Rory, fixing his jacket.

"How can you tell?" Alice asked. The beach and the trees all looked the same to her in every direction.

In response, Rory pointed at a large rock sunken into the beach. A few steps further there was another, and then another not far above that. "From down here it just looks like a bunch of rocks, but if you look at it from above, it's an arrow," he explained. "That way you can only find the spot if you're on a Flamingo. If you'd not had your face in my spine, you would've seen it up there. Keeps Sir Charles safer. We know how to find him, but no one else does."

Now that he'd said it, she could follow the line of stones up to where it forked back into a point. "That's brilliant," she said.

"Thanks," said Rory, grinning.

"It was your idea?" she asked.

"Codes and hidden messages are something of a speciality of mine," he said, and a pleased flush crossed his cheeks. "It was part of the job working for the Rebellion." He tugged at the knot in his tie and then nodded toward the forest. "We should get going before we start losing light. Don't want to run into a Jabberwock in the dark."

"I don't really want to run into one in the light either if we can avoid it," Alice added, but she followed as he climbed the slope into the trees.

She couldn't stop herself from musing on how similar this situation was to her last Wonderland visit. Her boyfriend had been kidnapped, and she'd chased him here. The first line of hope had fallen through – Dodo the last time, and Jack now. And just like then, she was now wandering through the forest with a charming, if strange, man. She was starting to wonder if this was going to become a pattern; she gets attached to a guy, and he gets kidnapped away to Wonderland.

But why did they take Hatter? Jack she could understand; the rebel Prince of Hearts and all that. But Hatter? Maybe he was some kind of royalty. She nearly laughed at the absurdity of that, but it caught in her stalled halfway. There were so many things she didn't know about him, especially about his past. For all she knew, he very well could be some sort of duke or earl.

None of that mattered, though. Alice didn't care why he was here. She was going to find him, and they were going home. Anyone who thought otherwise would answer to her.

They had been walking for what Alice figured was about an hour when a loud, harsh cry split the air, making them both jump. Rory pulled his gun, but Alice laughed. "We're getting close," she said.

"You recognise the area?" Rory asked.

"Not at all," she answered. "But you just set off one of Charlie's proximity alarms." She knelt down and fingered the length of twine on the ground at his feet. "It warns him when people are in the area."

"That's clever," said Rory. He was following the twine to where it ran through a tangle of roots and then shot off deeper into the forest. "I always thought he was a bit mad."

Alice chuckled. "Oh, he is," she agreed. "But isn't everyone here?" She caught the smirk that flashed over Rory's face. "We should watch our step, though. He's probably put in more traps since he's come back."

She'd no sooner finished her sentence when something snapped tight around her ankle. Her leg was yanked out from beneath her, and she tumbled backwards into Rory before she was hefted into the air by her foot. All of the blood rushed to her head as she dangled there upside-down, her ankle burning painfully.

"Lady Alice!" Rory yelled in alarm, clambering back to his feet. Standing, they were eye-to-eye. "Are you alright?"

Ignoring him as he bobbed around, trying to figure out how to get her down, she raised her voice and hollered, "Charlie!"

A few seconds later she heard the returned bellow of "Intruders!" The clanking of metal armour intermingled with cries of, "Rapscallions! Encroachers! Desecrators!  _Bug-badgers_!"

"Charlie!" she yelled again, cupping her hands to make it louder. "It's me!"

"Impossible!" The clanging redoubled and it didn't take long before she spotted the white-and-silver figure darting through the trees toward them. "Alice-of-Legend?"

"It's just Alice," she replied and, despite her situation, she smiled. "Now could you get me down? My ankle really hurts."

"Just-Alice!" he cheered and approached. He swung his sword at the backside of the nearest tree and Alice dropped without warning. Rory broke her fall – by crumpling beneath her – and they got up gingerly. Her ankle was sore and rope-burnt but didn't feel broken or dislocated when she stood on it. She scooped Hatter's hat from the ground and placed it back on her head before facing the White Knight in front of her.

Charlie was red-faced and puffing from the run, but his expression lit excitedly. He still looked the same, from his battered armour to his whimsical beard, and only the addition of a few more lines showed the passage of time. He surveyed her appraisingly before enveloping her in a hug that she returned enthusiastically.

"Oh dearest Just-Alice," he said gleefully. "It is an alignment of the stars that brings you to me again. I did believe that we would not meet again in my life, but here you are. It is Fate!"

"I've missed you too," she replied. It was only now, looking into Charlie's youthfully sharp gaze, that she realised how much she had missed the energetic knight.

"And what of the Harbinger?" he asked and looked around expectantly. His eyes fell on Rory and then frowned. "Did he not accompany you?"

Alice felt her strength waver at the disappointment in Charlie's expression. "That's why I'm here," she said. "I need your help. Hatter's been taken."

Something flashed in Charlie's gaze, and he drew himself up, full of righteous indignation. "Someone has stolen the Harbinger? I will not stand for such impudence, not so long as it is my job to defend these lands!" He frowned and looked around suspiciously. "Come, we should retire to safer quarters before speaking further."

Rory trailed just behind him as Charlie led the way through the trees with Alice at his side, holding his arm for balance as her sore ankle throbbed. "Who is this vassal?" asked Charlie, glancing at Rory.

"Rory Capricorn, sir," the Suit offered with a hasty bow. "I was asked by his majesty to accompany Lady Alice."

Charlie looked to Alice pointedly. "You trust him?"

Alice hesitated slightly. Trust wasn't something she handed out readily. In fact, she could count the number of people she completely trusted on one hand. But there was something about Rory, something about that familiar spark in his eyes... "He's on our side," she said finally.

The old knight nodded, and his hand slipped from the hilt of his sword. "What's got you so paranoid?" she asked uncertainly.

"A knight is never _paranoid,_ " huffed Charlie. "A knight merely knows when it is best to err on the side of caution, for the safety and protection of all."

"Sorry," she said to assuage him. "Then why the extra caution?"

"We don't want to be overheard," he replied. "They're listening. All around us, always with an ear turned toward voice in the hopes of discovering a hidden word."

"Who?" Rory pressed.

"The  _trees_ , of course," said Charlie with an overly-dramatic twirl of his hand. "The trees are whispering again; telling secrets on the breeze and breathing our words to the skies. We cannot risk being overheard in case they carry our voices to the enemy."

Rory and Alice exchanged sceptical glances behind the knight's back but didn't dare argue it with him. She'd learnt before that there was no reasoning with him once he'd put his mind to something, no matter how mad that something was.

The castle ruins looked radically different than it had before. A huge rectangle of land in what had been the throne room was cleared of plants, and there were little wooden hoops set into the ground at intervals. It didn't take much imagination to figure out what she was seeing. "A graveyard," she breathed in awe.

"The final resting place of the Knights of Wonderland," said Charlie.

"Did you do all of this on your own?" Alice asked.

"It was only right that I carry the burden since it was I who disturbed their rest," the knight said solemnly. "I gave them the proper burials that they deserved."

"This must have taken you months," said Rory, eyes wide as they swept over the expanse.

"Time well spent," was Charlie's mournful reply. He straightened himself up and gestured them further on. At the far edge of the cemetery was a camp that looked more like she remembered it. His strange bellows machine fuelled the fire, and the cages of his proximity alarms were set at the corners of the camp, the crows shifting around inside. "This is a place of safety, we may speak freely," he said, and he grunted wearily as he sat down on a stump. "These trees are allies of the Red King. They will not betray us."

"What do you mean about the trees? Trees can't talk," Rory said in confusion.

"Do you question my integrity?" Charlie rebutted a bit aggressively. "You would not remember; it was in the times long before even the time of your parents. But I remember from when I was just a child. They used to sing, glorious, wonderful songs all day and night. The trees, the flowers, the water. The world was polluted after the Queen of Hearts stole the throne, and when the White King and his court were taken from this world the magic left with them. But they are waking up, I can hear them. The magic is coming back."

"Is that even possible?" Alice asked, sitting down beside him.

Charlie fidgeted his jaw, making his twisted beard sway from side-to-side. "It would seem so." They all fell into silence as they mused over this. Alice couldn't believe what she was hearing. As far as she'd been able to tell, there was no magic to this world. Apart from maybe the Looking Glass, everything that she'd seen was nothing but science. Impossible science, but science none-the-less. Hatter had told her himself that magic had died from the world decades ago. Was Charlie being crazy again? Or was there more to this world than she had known, things that made it more like the world from the books her father had read to her as a child?

"So tell me, Just-Alice," Charlie started and patted her knee, "what is this ill fate that has befallen the Harbinger?"

"He was kidnapped," said Alice. "By someone named Gryphon. He's somewhere here in Wonderland, but we don't know where. You can find anyone, can't you? You even found me inside my own head. Can you find Hatter?"

"Anything for you, Alice-of-Legend," Charlie said firmly. He stood up and touched his temples, shooting her a knowing look from beneath his hectic eyebrows. "After all, as you know, I am most proficient in the Black Arts."


	8. Tapping into the Madness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the funky formatting. For some reason, this site takes great offence at excessive use of Italics and it mucks up all my quotation marks. I fixed as much as I could, but every time I fix something, another part breaks so I finally had to just call it enough.

_The lights are blinding you. All of them, beaming down on you, blocking out the rest of the world. You can hear them, though; murmuring to each other and clanking metal objects together. You have no idea what those are, but they scare you to the core. Those sounds always preceded the pain._

_"Right, now you just cooperate." You can’t see the man's face; it’s swathed in a white paper mask and reflective goggles. You catch a quick sight of the needle before it’s stabbed straight into your forearm. No one pays any heed to your screaming. They never do. Fire bursts through your veins, and your right arm is seizing like it’s been electrocuted. You have a distinct feeling that your skin and muscles are bubbling and dripping away, even though you can see they're not._

_"It's working!" the man bellows. "Look at these readings. It's working!"_

_"Just in the arm," says another voice. Someone prods your shoulder, and you scream again as it sends pain through every nerve. The muscles are taut and flexed, which is only making the pain worse, but you can’t relax them. It’s like they’re stuck, tightened and pulling against the links around your wrist._

_"Doesn't matter," says the first man, pulling off his gloves with a snap. "It's a start."_

* * *

"Tell me, Hatter. Open up your secrets, your dreams. It's in there."

"Stop!"

* * *

_"Alice!"_

_"Silence!" You stagger as the first drives into your stomach, and all of the air rushes out of you._

_"Leave him alone!" Alice shrieks, tugging against the Suits that are holding her back. You straighten up and look through the mass of black-clad bodies at her. Her grey-blue eyes are wide and frightened, and as she meets your gaze, you can see the surrender. She knows that you’re trapped just as much as you do._

_No. You can’t let this happen. You promised to protect her. You can't just give up now. "Keep you'self safe," you say. The robotic voice of the man with the rabbit's head – the man who had once been a frightened kid from the streets, just like you – is directing your guards to different places. The Suits holding your arms started pulling you away, and the others are dragging her further up the hall, further away from you. "I'll make sure you're taken care of, Alice. I promise!"_

_"Hatter!"_

* * *

"Such a pretty weapon, this Fear. It doesn’t just enhance your current fears; it draws out all of the fears from your mind. From your dreams and your nightmares and your past. What do you see, Hatter? What do you fear?"

"Stop it!"

* * *

_"We need to find a way to spread the results to the rest of it." The voices are talking again, and you are back beneath the dazzling lights. There are more jabs of needles and prods of electricity, but this time you’re silent. You’ve screamed so much in the last couple of weeks your voice has long since fled._

_"Why isn't it working?" A second voice is speaking now, full of anger and frustration. "Work, dammit!" A hand comes down across your face and you yelp, eyes stinging._

_"Control yourself," snaps the first voice. "It won't do us any good if we kill it."_

It. _That's all you are here. A thing for their experiments. Not even human anymore. Just a thing._

_"Maybe this one's just defective," says the second man. "Wouldn't be the first time we picked up a broken piece of junk off the street." There’s another jolt of electricity through your torso and the muscles pull in protest. The leather strap around your right arm groans, straining; you can feel the change woven into your muscles, a terrifying, fiery difference that you can’t understand, like a throbbing, hungry energy clawing for freedom. "You know what I think? We should just scrap this one and start over. Things are looking a lot better with the other one anyway. That one's turning out proper."_

_"No," says the first one. "We'll just advance the experiment, that's all. Fetch me a triple dosage. If it's going to die, it will be because of the experiments, not because you're feeling wasteful."_

_"A triple dose will kill it for sure." A dry laugh. "It barely survived the double dose we gave it in the first place."_

_"And look at the advance we made then," the first points out eagerly. "That's when it finally worked. Now fetch the dose."_

_You start to panic as the syringe descends towards your arm. "No, please, stop." Your weak voice cracks under the effort of speaking, and you thrash against the bonds._

_"Control it," says the first._

_"David!" Tears are in your eyes as you try desperately to pull your arm away from the reaching gloved hands. "Not It. I'm David. Please! I'm_ David _."_

_The second voice laughs as it presses down on your shoulders, pinning you in place. "Not when we're through with you."_

_"No!" The strap around your right wrist breaks with a sharp noise, and you fling your arm out in defence. The first man staggers away, the syringe buried in his torso. Your hand goes to the throat of the second man, trying to shove him away. When your hand connects with his neck, there is a sickening crunch, and the skin and bone give in beneath your fingers like putty. You screamed in terror as the man collapses to the floor, his head lolling loosely._

_"No," you sob. You tear at the strap on your other arm until it breaks, then do the same to the ones on your ankles. Your body slips awkwardly to the floor, legs not used to supporting the weight of your body anymore. You hit the ground, staring straight into the face of the second man. His eyes are wide and vacant, his lips still parted in a dying shriek. The man._

_The man that you killed._

* * *

"Tears, Hatter. Really?"

"There may be crumbs in the butter."

"What? The butter?"

"There may be crumbs. In the butter."

* * *

_Everything – the only life that you’ve ever known - disappears behind you as you step forward. The swirling vortex of grey and blue and green and violet is curling around you, suffocating you, and you’re ninety percent sure that you are plummeting to your death. This will never work. You are going to die._

_You hit the ground all at once, crumbling into a heap on the hard concrete. Your heart is hammering in your ears as the aches fill your body. What have you just done? Things are so different here, so different from home. The energy in the air is murkier; you can taste emotions, free-running and undiluted, as you breathe. They make your head spin. You have no idea the sort of effect this world will have on you. Is your age catching up with you? Is that why you hurt so badly all of a sudden? What have you done?_

_No, you have to remember why you’ve done this. For Alice. For the girl who changed the world – became your world – and then slipped through your fingers like a ghost. You have to try. You have to know._

_Your arms shake as you gingerly untangle your limbs and push up onto your knees. The area is dark and appears to be deserted. Has she gone already? How much time has passed since she came back? You never can make sense of how that time shift works, no matter how much you try. You get to your feet and look around. There’s a staircase just around that corner up ahead. You stand on the top step and look down, only to feel your heart plummet into the weird Oyster boots you’ve been given._

_There she is, curled on the floor at the bottom of the stairs. Exactly the same as when she had left you: blue dress, maroon stockings, hair in dark curtains. Except that she doesn’t seem to be moving, and there is a faint streak of scarlet on her forehead. "Alice!"_

* * *

"Tell me. Tell me, and I'll release you."

"Why is a raven like a writin' desk?"

"That's it! Tap into the madness within. You're getting close! Nearly there."

* * *

_The crashes from inside the house made make you cringe, and you tuck your body against the wall. She’s at it again. Another one of her fits of madness. If he you can just stay out of the way until she calms, you’ll be all right. She always gets better eventually._

_"David!" She is wailing it at the top of her lungs, her voice full of desperation. You close your eyes and clamp your hands over your ears to block out the sound, curling tighter into a ball. "David!"_

_Tears sting at the corners of your eyes and you rub them away on the knees of your trousers. You’re a big boy now. Crying doesn’t do any good._

_There’s another thud, this one louder than the others, and your head shoots up in alarm. That wasn’t the sound of her dropping a teacup or knocking over a chair. It was heavier, like..._

_You jump up and sprint around the corner to the front door of the cheap seventh-layer flat. It’s firmly locked – you always make sure to lock it behind you when this happens, so she doesn’t wander off and get hurt again – and your fingers fumble on the key as you insert it into the deadbolt. You shove the door open with your shoulder, which is harder than it should be because the coat rack has fallen over in front of it, and take stock of the room._

_It looks like the disaster that it always does when she goes into her fits. Things are swept off shelves, the sheets have been stripped from the mattress, and there’s a shattered tea kettle on the floor. A pair of feet in familiar striped socks are sticking out from behind the bed._

_"Mum!" You bolt across the room, tripping over the blankets and cutting your palm on a shard of porcelain. You kneel down and shove her onto her back, and you let out a breath of relief when her eyes flick to you._

_"David," she rasps._

_"Mum, what 'appened?" you ask in alarm. You look her over, but she doesn’t seem to be injured in any way. The wild light is in her eyes, the one that comes with the madness, but other than that, she looks completely normal. For some reason, that scares you even more._

_"I can't fight it anymore," she murmurs._

_You look around and then shake your head. "C'mon, Mum, into bed, yeah?" It’s an ordeal trying to get her on her feet enough to get her onto the mattress. If she hadn't lost so much weight in the last season, you might not have been able to pull her up at all, but she’s hardly bigger than you now. Once she’s on the bed, you grab the blanket from the floor and spread it over her gently._

_"Can I get somethin'?" you ask hopefully. "Some tea, yeah? Tea makes it better. You said tea always ‘elps."_

_"David," she says. Her voice is softer now. Weaker. "Come sit with me." You climb hesitantly onto the bed and sit down beside her hip, facing her. She takes one of your hands and brushes her thumb over the back of your wrist softly. "I can't fight it anymore, David. I've tried, but it's just too much."_

_"What is?" you ask in confusion._

_"The madness, sweetie," she says. "The madness is just so strong. I was there when it took your Granddad, you know. Listened to him rambling away into the night until he just stopped. I thought maybe I could be strong enough, but I'm not." She lifts her hand shakily, and when it doesn't rise high enough, you bend so she can cup your cheek in her palm. "But you, my David. You are strong enough. You are my brave, clever boy. You will beat it."_

_"Mum, please." You’re shaking as you clutch her hand against your face. There’s something about the way she’s talking. Something that sounds like goodbyes._

_She opens her arms and you instantly curl into her side, the same way you had slept when you were smaller. Before you had to start being brave and grown-up. Before she had gotten ill with the madness that ate her mind and made her forget you and everything else until she woke again. "I bought you a little time, but that's all I could do. Don't let it beat you, David," she murmurs into your hair, wrapping her arms around you to hold you close to her chest._

_"Please, Mum, what's wrong?" you sob._

_"The clockwork's not ticking properly." You choke back another cry. She’s gone again. Gone into the madness, where she only ever says things that make no sense and speaks in riddles with no answers. "May be crumbs in the butter, my sweet David. That clockwork just isn't ticking."_

_"I know, Mum," you say, trying to soothe her through your own tears. "I know it's not. Is there something I can do to fix it?"_

_"You'll have to find it, won't you?" she says with an airy chuckle. Her arms shift, and then she’s pushing something into your palm. You stare down at it in surprise. Her locket, the little flower pendant that she always wears. A gift from your da, back before he'd scarpered. "The clockwork's not ticking properly." Her voice is fading. You sit up and see that her eyes have closed. "That damn clockwork, David. May be crumbs in the butter."_

_"I love you," you say._

_Her eyes crack open a fraction of an inch, and she smiles fondly. "Why is a raven like a writing desk, love?" And then a soft breath leaves her, and her hand slips off your arm. It lands on the mattress with a weak thump._

_"Mum?" You shake her shoulder, but she doesn’t respond. "Mum? Mum! Wake up, Mum. Please!"_

* * *

"The clockwork's not ticking properly."

"That's right. The clock. Time. Tell me, Hatter. Tell me."

Hatter's eyes snapped open, and the horror-filled illusions faded to the background as his gaze locked on the face in front of him. A surge of resolve swelled in him, and he smirked. "You'll 'ave to kill me firs'."

The Unicorn's eager expression fled to be replaced with fury. "That can be arranged."


	9. Aftershocks

Alice and Rory decided to spend the night in the safety of Charlie's camp. It was close enough to nightfall that they wouldn't have made it far anyway, and it gave them more time to gather things and prepare. Alice wasn't excited about the wasted time they could've spent travelling, but she understood that it wouldn't be smart to just go wandering off into the woods without a good night's rest. After all, the last time she'd been asleep it had been rudely interrupted by a kidnapper, and the fatigue was starting to creep in.

As if trying to make it up to her, Charlie went all-out with dinner. He prepared another rib of Borogrove like she'd had the first night she'd spent with him, as well as a salad made of strange forest plants and drenched in a tangy dressing that apparently came from a flower. Whatever it was, it was delicious. She ate it all eagerly, aware that she hadn't eaten in about half a day, and then settled down against a log to listen to Charlie.

Despite the knight's previous hesitancy toward him, Charlie quickly warmed to Rory. The Suit sat across the fire from him and eagerly hung onto every story that Charlie told like a little boy at his uncle's knee. Alice watched them both fondly. It would've been a perfect night was it not for the very obvious empty spot beside her.

She drew the coat tighter around her body, and her hand encountered something that caught her attention. Curious, she reached into the pocket and pulled out the little leather-bound sketchbook. She examined it in awe; she'd forgotten that she'd brought it with her. It was aged and the leather was soft in patches, but it was definitely not as old as the other book had been. Her mind drifted to the map that she'd spotted and she wondered if there were any other useful tips hidden in the pages.

The very first page was covered with a drawing of a woman. The dress she wore was plain and well-used, and her hair twisted around her face in flyaway curls. Even though she looked tired and there was something in her eyes that made her appear older than her face said, she was still fairly pretty. The small smile on her lips was almost cheeky, and the crinkled eyes were similar enough to hazard a guess: this woman was related to Hatter. A sister, maybe, if he had any of those, or perhaps his mother.

It occurred to her then that she knew nothing about his family. She'd asked him once where they were, but he'd just said that they were gone. He’d looked so sad that she didn't want to push it, and the topic never came up again.

She turned the page. There were several sketches of inconsequential things on the next few pages; teacups and trinkets, a round bird with a curved beak, a broken bicycle. There were quite a few different depictions of a cramped flat done with intricate details, down to the frayed holes in the bedspread and wisps of steam coming from the kitchen kettle. She wondered what made this place so significant that it merited several pages. Maybe this was where he'd grown up.

On the next page was the woman again, only this time she looked even older. She was tucked into the bed – it had to be the same one, she recognised the pattern on the blanket – and she appeared to be asleep. Her face was peaceful and sad. There was something so striking about the picture, like she could feel emotions coming from it. It made her heart ache.

"Just-Alice?" Alice started and realised there were tears in her eyes. She hastily rubbed them away with the heel of her hand. When she looked up, both of the men were staring at her in concern. "Are you alright?" Charlie ventured.

"I'm fine," she said and forced a smile. Charlie nodded, but there was something in the sad lines on his aged face that told her he understood. "I think I'm going to get some sleep. It's been a long day."

Both of them bid her goodnight, and she paused to give Charlie a quick kiss on the cheek - he flushed and sputtered endearingly - before she crossed to the large bed stowed away beneath the canopy of protruding tree roots. She had argued that Charlie should keep his bed since he was old and arthritic, but that had apparently offended his honour and she'd withdrawn her objections almost immediately at the hurt in his face. _Just like old times,_ she thought somewhat wistfully as she stretched out on top of the faded quilt. She set the straw hat on the pillow beside hers and lay staring at it until she finally drifted to sleep hours later, the knight's snores filling the air and her hand stretched out into the empty space on the other side of the bed where Hatter should have been.

She was woken early by Charlie's shout and a loud thump. It didn't take long to figure out what had happened; Rory had tried to wake the knight, who'd panicked and fallen out of his hammock. As Alice climbed off the bed, Rory was trying to help the elderly knight to his feet while the latter grumbled a series of words she thought might have been Wonderland vulgarity under his breath.

It didn't take them long to gather everything they would need, planning to travel lightly for speed, and Charlie called over the horses to load them. Alice frowned when she saw the pair. Instead of the brown and grey set she'd last seen, these two were a palomino and one that was the colour of rust. "What happened to Guinevere and Lancelot?" she asked.

"They have both gone to the great rest," said Charlie, stroking the neck of the darker horse before slinging the saddle blanket over its back. "They had done their service. I set them free to live out their last noble days in the forests, although they never strayed far. Guinevere went first and Lancelot the year after."

"Year?" Alice's mind buzzed, and a question that she had ignored suddenly sprang to the front of her mind. "Wait, how long have I been gone?"

"Just a little over eight years now, milady," Rory chimed in, starting to saddle the lighter horse. "Nine when the cold season comes again."

"Eight years?" Alice gasped. It hadn't even been a full year in her world, but here nearly a decade had passed. She thought about the ruins in the city, the new buildings that had been built, and the lines that had become so pronounced in Jack's face. They weren't just lines of exhaustion and worry; they were the marks of time. He had aged eight years ahead of her.

"Why? How long was it on your side?" Rory asked, and his pale eyes had lit curiously.

"It’ll be a year in three weeks," she said, still awe-struck.

Rory chuckled. "That explains why you look exactly how I remember," he said, fastening a buckle and giving the saddle a quick tug to check that it would stay in place. Charlie was puffing as he settled himself onto the saddle of the rust horse, and Rory jumped onto the other in a way that proved he'd done it plenty of times before. "Ready?" he asked, offering a hand down to her.

"Let's go," Alice agreed, using his hand to pull herself onto the horse behind him. It was as awkward and uncomfortable a spot as she remembered, straddling the horse's haunches directly behind the saddle, and she struggled to find a place to put her hands.

"This way," said Charlie, and he turned his horse toward the south. Alice thought back to the directions that he'd spouted off the day before. After a minute of humming and rubbing circles into his temples, he had suddenly gone stiff and rambled off their instructions so quickly she'd barely understood a word of it.

_"Beyond! Go to the land beyond the land, to the kingdom long dead, and deep below to a castle that shouldn't exist. Seek the White Unicorn."_

Charlie hadn't been able to explain what any of it had meant after he'd come out of the mini-trance, but he seemed to somehow know where they were supposed to go so she left him to it. What concerned her more at the moment was that this was the second time she'd heard ‘unicorn’ crop up in a slightly disturbing way. There had been a unicorn in her dream, albeit a black one; a unicorn that had trampled a hat into the ground.

It couldn't be a coincidence, could it? She didn't really believe that there was such thing as coincidences as far as Wonderland was concerned. So if it was supposed to be some sort of metaphor, then Hatter was being held by someone intent on trampling him, and she couldn't imagine that translated to anything good.

* * *

"Why's'a raven not tickin'..."

"Shh, just relax."

"Butta... Butta in the crumbs... No, not righ'..."

"I mean it, you. Quiet yourself down or I'll have to put you back under."

Who was that voice? It was firm and authoritative, but it wasn't the voice that made him afraid. His curiosity got the better of him and he pried his eyes open, only to find himself facing a pair of pale green eyes staring straight back at him.

"There you are," she said. "I thought you must be coming back. You've been rambling nonsense for a while now, but that's the first time you'd shown any sign that you even knew what you were saying."

Hatter's scattered mind took a second to match the face of the woman leaning over him with the one who had tended his injuries before. The girl who'd called herself the Pawn. "You..."

"Shh," she said again. "Really, I'm not doing that just for my own entertainment. You did yourself quite a lot of damage, and I'm not going to be able to fix it until you hold still."

"I am," he said irritably.

The Pawn snorted. "Tell your body that then, would you?"

Hatter was about to snap back when he noticed it; a tremor in his left arm. His entire body felt numb and disjointed, so he hadn't picked up on it before, but now he couldn't help but feel it. Not just in the one arm, either. Both of his hands were twitching – although he noticed his right wrist was being held firmly in place somehow – and the muscles in his legs kept coiling and uncoiling. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realised he'd seen this effect before; seizures, caused by a Tea overdose. Only as far as he'd ever known, the other Wonders had never been fully aware while it happened to them.

"Breathe, calm down," said the Pawn, pressing down on his chest as his body convulsed weakly.

"Am I dyin'?" he asked bluntly. He wasn't sure how he felt about that just yet, but if it was going to happen then he'd rather know about it up front.

"You'll be fine," she said with just a touch of amusement. "Just an after-effect of the Fear. Your body's fight-or-flight instinct is in overdrive right now. It will go away as soon as you’ve calmed down."

Hatter closed his eyes and tried to focus on only his breathing. The moment his eyes shut, the images started flickering through his mind again like a film reel; needles, fire, screams, white-clad faces, Alice's crumpled body. He cursed under his breath as his muscles contracted again, so hard his back bowed up off the ground.

"The spasms have faded enough now," the Pawn said, talking more to herself than to him. Her hands closed around his right ankle. Hatter's eyes snapped open, and he lifted his head to see what she was doing, at the same moment that she fastened the thick metal band around his ankle.

"No, please," he croaked, trying to use his other leg to push himself out of her reach but the limb wouldn't respond properly and, with both his right ankle and wrist detained, it wasn't like he could've gone far anyway. The Pawn grabbed his other ankle and secured it into place before sliding around to kneel beside his left shoulder.

"This is going to hurt," she said simply. "You were pulling so hard against the restraints before that you dislocated your shoulder. I'm going to have to put it back in place." She didn't give him a chance to respond; she quickly shoved her cleaning cloth between his teeth and then took his left arm in her hands. With a quick twist and jerk, the joint popped back into the proper spot. Hatter’s scream was swallowed by the clump of fabric as the motion aggravated the puncture wound left by the dagger. "There we go, much better," she said.

As she made to slide his wrist into the cuff, he closed his hand around hers. Spitting the cloth out, he looked up at her and said, "Please."

"I'm sorry," said the Pawn, and she actually sounded sincere when she met his gaze. "You're to be detained, that's the orders. Even out here we've heard the stories about your fighting skills."

"You know what she's doin' is wrong," Hatter said pointedly. "Whatever she wants this information for, s'not good. So help me."

"I can't," she said, and she jerked her hand away forcefully. She wouldn't meet his eyes as she forced his wrist into place and fastened the cuff.

"Wait!" Hatter called out as she made to stand. "Just – don' go."

"I should get back to work," she said, but she'd stopped none-the-less.

"I don't wanna be alone," he admitted. "The Fear, it's still there. Please, just don' leave me 'ere alone. Not 'til s'gone."

The Pawn finally turned to look at him again, and her gaze was wary, but she nodded and sat down beside him on the floor. "You're bleeding," she murmured and then picked up the abandoned washrag, dabbing the hole in his shoulder.

"Wha's your name?" asked Hatter, curiously. "S'not actually Pawn, is it?"

"This is Wonderland," she said with a wry smile. "Do any of us have real names anymore, The Hatter?"

"David," he offered. "M'real name's David Hatter. Mum was a bit odd, thought I should 'ave a proper name 'sides just the family one. Gave me an Oyster name. Course, way she tells it, she was 'alf Oyster. Dunno how true tha' was, though. Like I said, not right in the 'ead." He knew he was rambling, but as long as he kept talking it was easier to focus on the present and ignore the disembodied memories that shirked around his consciousness.

"David," she repeated slowly, like she was tasting the word. "Funny name. I didn't know you were part Oyster."

"Might be," Hatter said. "Never met 'nough of me family to know. Was always just me and mum."

"Elaira."

"Come 'gain?" Hatter asked in confusion.

"That's my name," she said and smiled. "Elaira."

Hatter returned the smile, although it was quickly dashed away as she prodded at the sensitive shoulder wound. "S'pretty name," he said when his jaw relaxed. "So Elaira, where are we?"

"The infirmary," she responded. He shot a confused look at her before catching the teasing grin on her lips. "I thought that was obvious."

"Thanks, tha' narrows it down," he said sarcastically. "But really, the old kingdom was destroyed. Seen it m'self. Where've you Whites been hidin' all these years?"

Elaira seemed to be considering him for a moment, twisting the washrag between her fingers, before she said, "The outer rim. The ones who survived retreated to the furthest edges of Wonderland and went into hiding."

"So while the Reds fought to defend the city, your people ran away and hid," Hatter concluded darkly.

"They did what they had to do to survive," she said, voice flat. "The Reds lived on in the Queen of Hearts and her descendants. The White Queen was just making sure that her family wasn't wiped from our world. It wasn't honourable, but it was necessary."

Hatter recoiled slightly at the rebuke. "Sorry, I didn' mean it like that," he said. "I know what it's like, doin' wrong things for good reasons. Sometimes it's the on'y way to stay 'live." Elaira's expression softened. "Still, had to choose a side in the end, though."

"And you chose the Oyster girl," she finished for him. Her eyes were shrewd and calculating, questions buried beneath the dim colour. "Why?"

"'Cause she drives me abs'lutely mad," he said and chuckled. "From the first mo' I saw her, she was so frustratin'. Never met a girl like 'er, and I've met a lot of 'em." He sighed and a pang of loneliness stung in his chest. "Pro'lly what makes me love 'er so much." Elaira was staring at him with rapt fascination now, her eyes wide and attentive. After the long silence had drawn on, Hatter fidgeted – of his own accord this time – and said, "What?"

"Nothing," she said, too quickly, and averted her eyes. "She's here, you know," she added. "Your Oyster. Not _here_ , but in Wonderland, at least."

"She's comin' for me," said Hatter, and he wasn't sure if that made him happy or terrified. "I really 'ope this place is well hidden, 'cause otherwise we're all in trouble. Either she gets caught and your lovely miss uses her 'gainst me, or Alice'll find a way to bring this 'ole place down. She's good at tha'." His mind filled with images of the Unicorn pointing that silver horn dagger at Alice's throat and knew if that happened, he was done for. He'd spill every secret in his body, tear his mind open and pour it all out, to keep her safe. "Blimey, I 'ope she don' find me."

"You don't want to be rescued?" Elaira asked in surprise.

"I want 'er safe," he clarified. "'Tween me and her, I'd pick 'er life every time." He gave a dry laugh and glanced up at the Pawn. "I shouldn't be tellin' you this. You go tell all this to your miss, and she'll know 'xactly how to beat me."

Elaira's hand was gentle as she touched his arm. "I won't tell her, I promise."

Hatter opened his mouth to ask her what that meant when there was suddenly a thunderous noise. He couldn't be sure because of all of the echoes, but it sounded like it was coming from above them. A few seconds later, there was a horn, blaring out a long, sonorous note that sounded almost bestial. Elaira bolted to her feet, looking at the ceiling in alarm. "Can't be," she breathed in awe.

"What?" asked Hatter. "What is it?"

"It can't be," she said again, ignoring him. “Not now.” The white band around her wrist beeped and she checked it quickly, her eyes widening further at whatever she saw. "I've got to go."

"Wait, what's goin' on?" Hatter shouted after her, but she had already run out of the door on the far side of the room and vanished. He lay on the cool tiles, pinned down by the metal cuffs and completely defenceless, while above him another boom reverberated in the air.


	10. The Wild Old

_"Hey_ , nonny-nonny. _Hey_ , nonny-nonny."

Alice clung to the back of the saddle as the sand-coloured stallion trotted, trying to stop herself bouncing against Rory’s back. In front of her, the Suit groaned and shook his head. "Does he always sing like that?" he whispered over his shoulder.

" _Hey,_ nonny-nonny. _Hey,_ nonny-nonny."

"Pretty much," Alice agreed with a laugh. Ahead of them, Charlie was leading the way, oblivious to the conversation going on behind him. "Not sure why. He's just always done it as long as I've known him."

"I hope we don't have far to go then," said Rory, and he clicked his tongue, urging the horse on faster to keep up with Charlie. "So, you really think he can find Hatter?"

"He can find anyone," Alice said certainly. "I don't know how he does it, but he always seems to be able to find people."

"What was that you said before, about finding you in your head?" Rory asked, twisting slightly to glance back at her.

"He did," she answered with a grin. "The Doctors, Dee and Dum, had trapped me inside my head, and somehow he managed to find his way in. He and Hatter broke me out. I don't know how they did it, and Hatter could never explain how they'd gotten in there in the first place, but they did."

"Fascinating." Rory trailed off, still shaking his head, and then focused on steering the horse onto a clearer path.

" _Heey,_ nonny-nonny. _Heey,_ nonny-nonny."

Rory snorted in exasperation and raised his voice. "Isn't your singing going to draw the Jabberwocks to us?"

"Preposterous!" Charlie bellowed, even though they were only a few feet behind him. "What do you take me for? An imbecile?"

"I just don't want to get eaten, that's all," Rory grumbled.

"Just leave him at it," said Alice. "He's been living in this forest forever and he hasn't been eaten yet. I figure he knows what he's doing."

"I guess so," Rory said. "Maybe it's that singing what's driving the monsters away."

"Oi!" Charlie said, wheeling the reddish-brown horse around to glare at the younger man. "I'm not deaf!"

Rory chuckled. "Bet the Jabbers are now."

"Boys!" Alice cut in as Charlie swelled indignantly. "Could we focus?"

"My apologies, Alice-of-Legend," Charlie said and steered his horse back on course with a murmured, "On we go, Gawain."

"Sorry," Rory said as they started moving again. "This place puts me on edge. I've been here before once or twice, but something feels different. It's getting stronger the further into the forest we go."

"I know what you mean," said Alice. "It's like this prickling in my skin, like the way the air is right before a lightning storm."

"I think he's right," Rory said solemnly. "I think it's the magic coming back."

"And what happens then?"

Rory's breathless laugh was equal parts excited and anxious. "Not a clue."

It was a long and uneventful day, riding as quickly as the treacherous ground would allow and talking very little. The whole thing was making Alice irritable, and she wanted nothing more than for the trip to be over. Sometime late in the day, the trees ahead began to thin and a few miles further, the forest ended at the edge of an enormous, rolling plain. The ground swept up in rounded hills and was covered in thick grasses that came up to nearly Alice's hips.

"The border of Wonderland," said Charlie. "It stops here at the end of the forest."

Rory glanced at the sun, which was hovering close to the horizon. "We should stop here for the night," he said. "It's not a good idea to go blundering into that this close to nightfall. Never know what's hiding in there."

"We're outside of Wonderland? What's all that then?" Alice asked in surprise as Rory helped her dismount. "Are there more worlds here?"

"The Wild Old," Charlie said, his eyes panning the fields of green and blue grass. "In the times of old, the realm of Wonderland stretched on to every horizon and further. When the Queen of Hearts took control, there was only so much land she could control. Everything outside of her reach fell into ruin."

"They say it's all gone feral," Rory chipped in. "No people out there as far as I've heard. Everyone fled into the city because it was the only place to survive. There's nothing out there but wilderness and monsters."

"But there must be someone out there," said Alice. "Whoever it is that took Hatter is out there somewhere. Didn't people escape out there, to get away from the Queen?"

Rory grimaced. "The Rebellion sent scouts out there, but none of them ever came back," he said grimly. "After a while, they just gave up. Either the monsters get to them, or there are people out there who don't want visitors."

"So basically, you’re saying that either way, we're in trouble," Alice concluded. Both men looked away from her, busying themselves with unsaddling the horses, but their silence was answer enough. "You don't have to come with me, you know," she said. "Especially you, Rory. You only told Jack that you'd bring me to Charlie. You can go home."

"I wouldn't dream of it, milady," the Suit said with a grin. In the background, the look Charlie shot her said almost exactly the same thing, only with more pomp and circumstance. Rory chuckled before he continued. "Miss out on a chance to travel with Alice-of-Legend? Not on my life. 'Sides, I owe the Hatter. Saved my skin once. I figure I can pay him back by helping you now."

"He saved you?" Alice asked in surprise. "You never said you even knew him."

"It was a really long time ago," he said with a shrug. He tied the horse's reins to a tree root protruding from the ground and then settled down on a large rock. "I was just a kid then, only about twelve I think. The Suits had caught me trying to deliver a message for the Rebellion, and they were close on my tail. They'd already gotten a good shot at my leg, and I could barely walk by the time I reached the docks, let alone swim for safety. The Hatter was there, unloading a Tea shipment I think he was. He found me and hid me at his shop until they'd gone, and then he got me back to the Library the next day. I would've been caught and killed if it hadn't been for him."

Alice shook her head, her brain struggling to make sense of the inconsistencies. "How long did Hatter own that shop?" she said in awe. "Did he start it when he was a kid? He can't be much older than you."

"Quite a bit, actually," said Rory. "You must know as well as the rest of us that time doesn't work the same here as it does in your world. Doesn't even work the same for all of us here. Some people live normally enough, and then some live for generations, like the Hearts. I mean look at Sir Charles, he must be at least a thousand years old."

"Two hundred and twenty-nine, I thank you very much," Charlie corrected, stoking the little campfire he was attempting to get burning.

"Close enough," Rory said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "No one can really explain why, it's just always been that way. It's like time is just broken in places."

An eerie memory floated to the surface of Alice's mind that made her blood run cold. "The clockwork's not ticking properly."

"Aye, exactly," the Suit agreed, not noticing her discontent. "It works in some ways and not in others. Like there are a few cogs missing or something. Dodo was doing this extensive study about it back at the Library. He tried to explain it to me once, something to do with the old family lines, and why..."

But Alice had stopped listening. What did all of this mean? The dream of the unicorn and the pocket-watch, where she'd heard Hatter's voice saying that same phrase. A phrase she'd heard him say plenty of times before when his mind was wandering. The pocket-watch had come out of the hat in her dream. Did Hatter have something to do with why time wasn't working? How was that even possible?

She was never going to figure this out all on her own. Rory and Charlie were some help, but there was only one person who could give her all of the answers: Hatter. The one person she truly needed was the one she couldn't talk to right now.

Alice toyed with the golden flower pendant she'd found in his safe distractedly. It was strange to think about, but this was probably the longest she'd been away from Hatter since he'd turned up in her world. It wasn't that she was co-dependent, and she'd never been one to be clingy. She had just always enjoyed having him around, even when he was driving her mad. Hardly a day had gone by on her side of the Glass where they hadn't seen each other, even if it was just for a quick lunch.

How long had Hatter been here already? It had only been a day and a half for her, but he'd gotten here before her. With the time difference, she had no clue how much time had passed during that hour it had taken for her to follow. Six hours? Twelve? A day? A week?

Charlie was the one who finally roused her from her musings by offering her a kebab of flame-roasted strips of meat and a gentle, boyish smile. He spent the rest of the evening regaling them with stories of his long-running hunt for the Jabberwock, and she could tell he was doing it mostly for her benefit, to distract her from her worry. Well, that and he visibly bathed in the rapt attention Rory fixated on him while he listened.

"We're coming, Hatter," she whispered, twirling his hat between her fingers the way she'd seen him do countless times, albeit far less gracefully. "Hold on."

* * *

Whatever was happening above was not a good thing, that much Hatter could tell that much. Every few minutes, that long, cavernous note would sound again, vibrating down through the walls and the ceilings and into his very bones. As far as he could tell there hadn't been any more of those ground-shaking booms for several minutes now but there was something hanging in the air. Anticipation.

He was going mad trapped down in the infirmary alone. It was like just sitting around and waiting to die. He wanted to be out there, know what was happening, but the metal cuffs keeping him pinned to the floor did a good job of stopping that.

Another loud boom shook the walls, and a tile broke free from the ceiling, falling to shatter on the floor. A shard of broken ceramic sliced across his shin. Would that be his fate, then? The building would collapse and he'd be crushed in the rubble, or worse still, buried alive? He couldn't think of a worse way to die, being trapped there and waiting for the hunger and thirst to finally consume him.

_BOOM!_

The walls vibrated again, making the mirror in the ceiling shudder ominously, and he steeled himself. He wouldn't just sit here and wait to die. After a quick internal debate, he settled on using his left hand; it was already in worse shape because of his shoulder, and if he had to fight his way out he'd need his right hand intact. He gritted his teeth and then curled his fingers around his thumb, bending and twisting it into his palm. The joint burnt at being pulled the wrong way but eventually, by tugging at the cuff, his thumb dislocated with a dull snap. He swallowed back his yelp as he manoeuvred his misshapen hand out of the metal ring.

 _Think of Alice... Think of Alice..._ He couldn't die. She'd tear Wonderland apart for him, and he couldn't stand the thought of her putting herself in that sort of danger on his account. Not to mention her poor heart; every other man in her life had left her in one way or another. He wouldn't be another name on that list.

Renewed, he started looking around for a way to free his other limbs. The cuffs had a small lock on them that he could probably pick if only – _there!_ On a low stand above his head, he could just see the edge of a metal tray. If he was lucky, it might have medical tools on it that could be useful. He got his fingers around the stand by stretching every muscle in his body to the point of pain and then dragged it to his side, hoping the grating sound of the metal legs on the tiles didn't attract attention. A tentative experiment in balance later, the tray slid off to crash to the floor right beside him.

A pair of tweezers clattered away, the bowl of blood-stained water splashed on his chest, and he very nearly got the scalpel in his leg. He rummaged through the mess of tools and washrags that had landed within his reach. The scalpel and scissors were both too wide to fit into the lock. He tried to use a pin that had been stuck through a rolled bandage, but the flimsy thing bent. He moved aside another washrag and out rolled something that made him instinctively flinch: a syringe.

The glass tube of it had cracked, but the needle was long and sturdy. It just might be his salvation. He threaded the needle into the lock, his thumb impeding his progress; were it not for his years of practice he might not have managed it at all. The lock eventually released with a bright click, and he almost laughed in relief as he extracted his right hand.

Getting his legs free was easy now that he was working with a fully-functional hand. He staggered getting up, his aching muscles protesting the movement, but he managed to not fall. He had no sooner steadied himself then he heard footsteps outside. He flattened himself against the wall and waited. The door opened and he'd barely gotten a glimpse of the shaved head before he stepped out and closed his right hand around her throat, shoving her against the wall. The Pawn's eyes widened slightly, but there was an amused slant to her lips as she stared back at him calmly. "They did say you were something of an escape artist."

"I could kill you," Hatter said, his voice coming out so cold and menacing it scared even him.

"Then do it," she challenged in reply. "But if you’re going to, you’d better hurry because she's on her way here." Hatter didn't have to ask to know that she meant the Unicorn. For a long, tense minute they scrutinised each other, Hatter's fingers still clamped on her neck, and then he dropped his hand with a defeated sigh.

"What're you doing 'ere?" he asked, still ready to fight if the need appeared.

"I'm getting you out of here," she said, catching him off guard. "You're a liability now. She'd rather have you dead than risk anyone else getting their hands on you. We need to get you out of here." She walked over and pushed aside a wall panel, revealing a cupboard stacked with white linens. She grabbed several and held them out to him. "Quick, put these on."

"What?" Hatter unfolded them to find a tunic and pants much like hers. He struggled to put them on without jostling his injured hand, biting his cheek to stop the hiss of pain.

"Let me see that," said Elaira, taking him by the wrist. "Hmm, dislocated. So that's how you got loose then? Clever. Right, here goes." With no more warning than that, she tugged on his thumb, _hard._ Hatter growled through his teeth as it snapped back into the joint. "There, that'll help. Now let's go before she finds us."

She darted back out through the same door she'd entered, and Hatter followed her on unsteady legs, still working the tunic over his head. They were in a wide, white-tiled hallway that appeared completely deserted. The booms were louder here, and he could hear other, indistinct noises mingling with them.

Elaira led him silently down one hall and then another, only speaking to shush him whenever he stumbled and cursed under his breath. He had no idea where she was taking him, but he didn't have any choice but to trust her. The castle was built like a labyrinth and he'd never have been able to navigate it on his own.

A door on the side of the corridor opened, and before Hatter and Elaira could duck aside, a very large man had stepped out in front of them. The man probably weighed as much as Hatter and Elaira combined, and he presented an intimidating figure with his shaved head and all black ensemble, a rearing silver unicorn stitched onto the left sleeve. His eyes settled on Hatter straight over the top of Elaira's head.

"You!" he said in alarm, reaching for the gun on his belt.

"Duck!" Hatter shouted. Elaira dropped and Hatter swung his right fist out, catching the other man on the side of the jaw. There was a sickening crunch, and Hatter felt bone fracturing beneath his knuckles before the man went down.

"Is he dead?" Elaira asked tentatively, straightening up.

"No," Hatter said immediately, although if he was honest with himself, he wasn't sure. The combination of adrenaline and the lingering Fear had made his hit a lot stronger than he'd meant. "Be out for a bit. Real nasty 'eadache and he won't be chewing much for a long time."

"Wow, they weren't exaggerating about you," she said and sized him up appraisingly. She grabbed his still tender left hand and started dragging him down the corridor again.

"What 'xactly do they say 'bout me 'round 'ere?" he asked curiously. "'Cause I didn't even know you lot existed, but you all seem to know 'bout me."

"Just because we aren't a part of main Wonderland anymore doesn't mean we don't keep up with all of the stories," she chided, pulling him down a side hall. "We've heard about you, and Alice-of-New-Legend, and the Mad March Hare. They always kept an eye on you, though, because of your family. Street orphan turned businessman and con artist before you were even an adult. Also Wonderland’s most dangerous fighter. The Sledgehammer; the right hand of Death."

"Then how'd you know I wouldn' kill you back there?" he asked.

Elaira laughed dryly. "You don't look like a killer. You've killed people, but you're not a killer. I've worked for the Unicorn my entire life; I know what it looks like."

Even though her logic made absolutely no sense to him, the words were comforting. At least he didn't come across as a complete sociopath.

"So where – _whoa_." The end of his sentence was a startled sound as she suddenly tugged him through a door he hadn’t even noticed. They were at the top of a flight of white, stone steps that curled around in a tight spiral so he couldn't see the bottom. It smelled strongly of earth and water, a refreshing change after the clinical blandness of the last few days. "What's'is?"

"Your way out," she explained, taking the stairs two at a time. "Underground river tunnels. We use them to carry supplies in and out of the castle." There was a shout from above and Elaira stopped, looking up in alarm. "Keep going, quick. Get to the river and get a boat. The current will carry you out. Keep heading downriver and it will take you to the Forest of Wabe."

"Wait, what 'bout you?" Hatter asked.

"I'll be right behind you," she said. "I'm just going to run back up and barricade the door behind us. Give us more time."

She turned to run up the stairs, but he reached out and caught her by the elbow. "Why are you doin' this? Helpin' me? Yesterday you were fine lettin' the Unicorn torture me."

"Because you love your Oyster," she said, and he was stunned by the intensity in her eyes as she stared back at him. "You really, truly love her, no tricks or bottled Emotions. I had that once, I'm not going to sit by and let the Unicorn destroy it for someone else." Before he could say anything, she kissed his cheek and then bolted up the steps and out of sight.

Hatter hesitated for a minute before moving down the stairs again. They curved around three more times and then abruptly ended at a wide, open area. It was built of earth and tile, and a river cut straight through the middle. There was a set of small wooden docks and, with the crates stacked up against the walls, the whole place had the feel of a warehouse, apart from the pair of guards patrolling by the water.

Trying to look as nonchalant as possible, Hatter walked toward them. He was only a few feet away when the first guy noticed him and, in the next second, there were two guns trained on him. "Her majesty needs everyone upstairs," he said, holding his hands up in surrender. "Can't you 'ear? We're under attack!"

The nearest guard narrowed his eyes. "Wait, aren't you–"

A high-pitched scream from above interrupted the end of his sentence, and Hatter used the moment of distraction to punch the first man in the face. The second man fired off a shot, but Hatter ducked underneath it and drove his fist into his sternum. The guard collapsed, coughing blood.

"Elaira!" Hatter shouted, and his heart fell when there was no response. Any thoughts of going back were banished by the thunderous footfalls of more guards coming down the stairs. There were no boats tethered at the docks, so he grabbed a nearby wooden pallet and shoved it into the river, then dove in after it.

The river was freezing and he gasped, sucking in a mouthful of dirty water. He surfaced several metres down, spluttering, and swam to catch up to the pallet. Shivering and weak, it took everything in him to cling to the wood as the fast current dragged him into the low passage. The shouts from behind gradually faded, the tunnel opened, and when he caught sight of the night sky for the first time in days, he finally allowed himself to relax.

He was free.


	11. The JubJub Bird

Alice was the first one to spot the smoke on the horizon. She had woken in the early hours of the morning from a bad dream and perched on a fallen log to read through more of Hatter's sketchbook. It was just before sunrise when she looked out and noticed a heavy, dark cloud in the distance, and the higher the sun got, the more ominous it looked. When she recognised it as smoke, she reached out and woke Rory, who was the closest to her.

"Rory, do you see that?" she asked, pointing out at the horizon.

"Hmm?" he replied, sitting up and rubbing his eyes sleepily. He squinted out into the sunrise and then frowned, shielding his eyes for a better look. "It looks like smoke."

"Could it be a fire, maybe?" she asked.

"Possibly," said Rory. "I'm not sure."

"That's where Hatter will be," she said resolutely. The Suit glanced up at her with his brow furrowed. "He's always right in the middle of trouble, and that cloud of smoke looks an awful lot like trouble."

There was the smallest trace of a smile on Rory's face as he stood up and dusted off his trousers. "Sounds about right. Well, the sun's up, we should start moving," he said. "Hopefully, we can make some good headway before dark. There's no saying what's out in that grass."

Alice regarded the open plains suspiciously as Rory woke Charlie. In the morning sunlight, the grasses were a rich blend of sea-foam green and pale periwinkle, and they rippled like ocean waves despite the fact that there was no breeze. Her gaze moved on to the trail of charcoal-coloured smoke lingering on the skyline. There was no telling where it was coming from since she couldn't see anything but hills and grass. Was there a city out there somewhere beyond the hills? A town of refugees from the Hearts' reign, hidden away in the wild lands? Perhaps even an entire kingdom? A kingdom that wanted Hatter...

"Lady Alice," said Rory, drawing her attention. While she'd been staring, the men had saddled up the horses and cleared away the camp. Rory was sitting atop the sand-coloured stallion, offering out his hand to help her up. She clambered up behind him and settled into her seat, and then nodded to Charlie.

"Onward!" the knight declared and flicked the reins. The horses trotted into the tall grasses a bit hesitantly, but once they had gotten started, they seemed to enjoy the openness. While the horses raced along far more quickly than they'd been able to move in the forest, the men debated about the cause of the smoke.

"Could be a wildfire," said Rory. "We had those storms a few days ago, could've been the lightning."

"That is not the smoke of a fire," Charlie protested, shaking his head so the chainmail around his head jingled. "There is earth in that smoke. I would know that smoke anywhere; that is the discharge of siege weapons."

"Can't be," Rory argued. "Who would have siege weapons out here, and who are they attacking?"

"Are you questioning my judgment?" Charlie puffed up, his cheeks turning red at the imagined offence.

"I'm saying this is all ridiculous," Rory said. "Wouldn't we know if there was a group of people out here with siege weapons? Wouldn't they have tried to attack the city by now if they're so organised?"

"Maybe they aren't," Alice interjected. "Organised, I mean. They could be fighting amongst themselves." Both men fell silent as they considered this information and then, by silent consent, they spurred the horses on even faster.

It was nearing midday by the time they slowed their pace again, and Charlie gestured off toward the left. "This direction," he said.

"We're heading toward that," Alice reminded him, pointing to the thin traces of grey still clinging to the undersides of the clouds.

"There is a river not far this way," Charlie explained. "Come, we must hasten!"

Alice and Rory exchanged confused glances as he nudged Gawain into a trot again. "It wouldn't hurt to be near water," the Suit said diplomatically. "We need to water the horses anyway, and if there's any game to hunt here, it will be close to the water sources." Alice nodded grudgingly, but as their horse followed the knight's, she kept an eye on where the smoke had come from so she wouldn't lose their bearings even as the sky slowly cleared.

The river appeared as a faint rift between the rows of grass, then gradually expanded into a wide grey and blue track. It was several yards across and so deep that Alice couldn't see the bottom from her perch on the stallion's back. The current was heading toward the forest, and ahead of them, it cut through the field as far as the horizon to disappear among the shallow hills. As best she could tell, it was flowing in from the same general place as the smoke.

"If there are people out there, they'll probably have set up shop close to the water," Rory said and glanced back over his shoulder to nod at her reassuringly. "Looks like it's heading right to where the smoke was. This could lead us straight to Hatter."

The three of them rode close to the water's edge where the shore was smoother and free of grass, and the horses seemed to be encouraged by the river because it renewed their enthusiasm. The humans, on the other hand, were on edge. All of them knew that being out in the open made them easy targets for whatever might be lurking in the grass, whether it be people or monsters. It didn't help that the scenery hardly changed no matter how long they'd been riding, with only the sun's progress to mark the fact that it had been hours instead of minutes.

"How big is this place?" Alice finally asked in exasperation, looking back to the forest for a sign of how far they'd come. It was further away than she expected since it felt like they'd hardly moved.

"It goes on to the horizons and further. I believe I already told you that," Charlie responded.

Alice resisted the urge to point out that that was hardly a definable measurement, knowing it wouldn’t really do much good. “We've got to be getting close to where the smoke came from, though, right?" she asked instead.

Rory made an indistinct hum and shrugged. "Best guess? We're about halfway there." Alice cursed under her breath and let her head drop against the back of Rory's shoulder. "We should stop soon to water the horses and get a bit of rest. Just a short one," he added at Alice's indignant noise. "But if trouble comes, we won't be any good stiff and sore and starving, will we?"

"Ahead there, where we will be shielded by the hills," Charlie said decisively. "It will provide us with an adequate view of any encroachers."

Another half-hour of riding brought them to the shallow bowl between two hills, where the river pooled into a broad eddy among the grass. They dismounted gingerly, and Alice took the opportunity to stretch her legs. She checked that the men were preoccupied with the horses and then jogged up the further hill for a better look.

The fields continued to spread out to the horizon, nothing more than sweeping hills of pastel grass. There was nothing to break the monotony, not even trees or boulders. It seemed like the hills might be taller further ahead, but even that she couldn't be sure of with nothing to judge them against. She huffed and watched the swaying blue-green stalks, wondering just where Hatter was in that great expanse.

"Charlie!" she called down to the knight. "You're sure we're still going the right way?"

"Of course I am," Charlie responded assuredly, puffing himself up slightly.

Alice nodded, accepting that as good enough, and turned back to look out across the landscape. She was determined to find something, anything, to give them a better sense of bearings. The smoke had long since faded away into the clouds, which were nothing more than indistinct feathery streaks across the skyline. She couldn't help but notice that the sky was bluer here than in the city proper. Like most things in Wonderland, if this place weren't so irritating, it would be rather beautiful.

A harsh cry cut the air and made Alice duck her head on reflex, looking around for the source of the noise. Behind her, she heard the rasp of Charlie drawing his sword, and Rory called for her to come back down. The flat, coarse note sounded again, and she suddenly recognised it. Tilting her head back, she quickly spotted the speck of black against the pale sky, wheeling in great circles above the river a few miles ahead.

"It's just a bird," she said, pointing upward. "A crow or something. Maybe a raven..." She trailed off as the familiar word triggered in her mind, and when the bird shrieked again, she let out a breathy laugh. "Why's a raven like a writing desk," she murmured to herself. "I figured it out."

"Alice!" Rory had jogged up the hill, and he promptly grabbed her by the elbow. "Get down here. We can't be seen."

"What? It's a bird," she said in confusion as he dragged her along beside him back down to where Charlie was half-crouched in the grass. The horses shuffled about behind him, snorting and straining against the reins tied to a thick snarl of reeds in the riverbed.

"That is no ordinary bird, Alice-of-Legend," the knight said solemnly, pulling his chainmail cap up over his head. "That is the JubJub Bird."

"The _what_?" Alice echoed.

"Trust me, not the sort of bird you want as a pet," Rory said, checking the clip in his gun with a frown. "Mean buggers. Can eat a man whole, they can."

Alice stared skyward again in surprise. "But it's so tiny."

"It is _distant_ ," Charlie corrected her. "Far, far up in the clouds."

Rory knelt in the grass, tugging Alice down with him so that the greenery was taller than they were. "Looks like it's hunting," he remarked grimly. "Looking for something to snack on."

"No, it has already found prey," said Charlie. "See how it circles in the sky? It is watching something." The three of them watched the steadily circling bird as it continued to screech above its target, but several minutes passed and it never descended.

"Why hasn't it attacked?" Alice asked uncertainly. "What's it waiting for?"

"Probably waiting for whatever it is to move," Rory said. "They're hunters. Not like crows, they don't eat what's already dead. They like the chase."

Alice frowned and glanced upriver, although the grass wouldn't let her see more than a foot in any direction. "So there's some poor thing just sitting up there?" The men exchanged dark looks and checked their weapons again. "What if they’re not dead? What if it's a person? We've got to do something."

"There's nothing we can do," Rory said gently. "If the Jub isn’t chasing after it, that means whatever it is, it's already dead."

The JubJub Bird pinwheeled twice more, and then let out a furious scream. It dove downward – Rory and Charlie both lifted their weapons expectantly – and swooped toward the river far ahead of them. The closer it got, the more Alice cowered back. The JubJub must have been miles in the air because the thing was enormous. With a wingspan like a private aeroplane, the bird was covered in scarlet and black feathers and had a curved beak the length of Alice's arm. After it had pulled out of the dive, it performed a graceful twist in the air and circled again.

"What's it doing?" Alice asked while the horses continued to struggle for freedom.

"Provoking the prey," said Charlie.

"It thinks it's just playing dead, so it's trying to scare it by diving," Rory explained. "That way if it runs, then it's a good target." He stood into a crouch and hurried over to the horses, trying to calm them. They kept snorting fretfully, stamping in the water with loud splashes.

The JubJub let out a furious high-pitched shriek that made the hairs on Alice's neck stand on end. The palomino let out a terrified whinny and reared, his flailing front legs sending Rory staggering backwards. Alice immediately looked skyward and saw that the JubJub had cut across the clouds in a wide arc and was now heading directly toward them.

"Damn horse is going to get us killed!" snarled Rory, trying to get close enough to calm the horse but it was no good. A wild kick connected with Rory’s shoulder and sent him sprawling. At the same moment, Gawain bucked and added to the chaos.

"Cut him loose!" Alice said. When both of the men looked at her in confusion, she stood up and jerked Charlie's sword from his grip. Running over, she swung the blade and split the palomino's reins. The lighter horse baulked and then took off running, heading for the forest. Alice stared upward, praying that it worked.

The JubJub soared passed them and continued downriver, making a throaty gurgling noise that sounded oddly triumphant. As the horse and bird raced into the distance, the three humans let out simultaneous breaths of relief.

"Good thinking," Rory commented, sitting up and cradling his arm. "That was a bit too close for comfort."

"Except now we only have one horse," Alice pointed out grimly, rubbing Gawain’s neck to soothe him. The stallion huffed, but he had settled down to simply shuffling around instead of trying to break free. "And half of our supplies were on him."

"But we are still yet alive," Charlie cut in. He groaned painfully as he straightened up from his crouch, but then reached over and patted her shoulder fondly. "Because of you." Alice gave him a small, grateful smile.

"We should get a move on before that thing comes back," Rory said, climbing awkwardly to his feet with his left arm still tucked against his chest.

“Are you okay?” Alice asked.

“Just clipped me, it’ll probably just bruise,” Rory said. He rolled his arm experimentally, only wincing slightly, and then stooped to pick up his gun where it had fallen. "Let’s go. If we’re lucky, the horse will keep the Jub distracted for a while. It can run almost as fast as that thing can fly, so that should buy us some time."

"Lady Alice-of-Legend, you should take the horse," said Charlie.

Alice snorted and shook her head. "Don't even start. I'll walk with both of you." Before they could argue, she pulled Hatter's hat further down on her brow and started up the hill. She distinctly heard Rory chuckle before the sounds of the men following behind reached her ears.

"Oi, Alice, ease up!" Rory called when she'd just about reached the top of the hill. She paused and glanced back curiously. "I'll take the lead; you hang back with Charlie. Just in case whatever that bird was hunting isn't friendly."

"I believe it is _my_ duty to lead this quest," Charlie interjected.

"Well someone needs to protect Lady Alice," Rory pointed out as he checked his gun again. Charlie's indignant expression faltered, and after a moment’s consideration, he seemed pacified by his new job. "I'll scout ahead, and you two follow. Whatever happens, Charlie, keep her safe." Alice wanted very much to remind them both that she was perfectly capable of defending herself, but Rory had already turned and started down the other side of the hill.

They moved more slowly now that they were walking instead of riding, but they still managed to maintain a decent pace for a while. After a couple miles, Charlie started panting slightly, and Alice was about to suggest that they take a rest when Rory suddenly lifted his hand for them to stop. "There's something up ahead," he hissed from atop the next low rise.

"The JubJub bird's prey," Charlie guessed, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Rory held his gun at the ready and crept forward over the crest of the hill. Alice, one hand on the gun in her waistband, hurried up after him in a low crouch even while Charlie whispered for her to stop. At the top, she peered through the grass down to where Rory was heading. There was a sloped embankment alongside the river ahead, a semicircle of loose silt mostly deprived of grass, and she could just make out something large and white lying there. She frowned and squinted, and then realisation made her blood run cold.

"It's a person!" she called back to Charlie and then took off running. _Please, don't be... Please, don't let it be..._ She bolted passed Rory, ignoring his startled yell, and then burst through into the cleared spot. It was most definitely a human, stretched out and still halfway in the river. Clad all in clothes that might once have been white and lying on its stomach, she couldn't make out a face but somehow she still knew.

"Hatter!" she choked out, dropping down on the marshy ground beside his prone body. Seizing him by the shoulder, she rolled him over onto his back and then flinched back with a gasp. It was her Hatter, but he looked horrible. Scratches and bruises covered his visible skin, which was sickeningly pale beneath the streaks of dirt and blood. The left shoulder of his shirt was stained a menacing scarlet, as were several other patches of clothing. His lips were faintly blue, and he wasn't moving. "God, Hatter, wake up," she pleaded, reaching up and cupping his cheek.

"Alice!" Rory stepped into the clearing and then froze in shock.

"Help me!" Alice shouted, and he immediately put away his gun, coming to kneel opposite her. They grabbed Hatter by the arms and tugged him up out of the freezing river. Once he was a safe distance from the water, they laid him out and Alice knelt beside his head, combing his damp hair off his face. "C'mon, Hatter," she begged, aware that there were tears in her eyes. She barely registered the clattering of Charlie finally catching up with them.

“Heartbeat, but he’s not breathing,” said Rory, ear pressed to Hatter’s chest.

Alice tipped Hatter’s chin up and covered his mouth with her own. Drawing up the extensive first aid courses she’d taken before starting at the dojo, she pinched his nose and forced two quick breaths into him. “C’mon, Hatter, please,” she whispered as Rory checked his breathing again. “Don’t leave me, not like this.” She sucked in a deep breath and then transferred that one to Hatter as well.

Halfway through the second breath, she felt Hatter seize, and he coughed a spray of water into her mouth. She jerked back, and Rory hastily tipped Hatter onto his side as he choked out a mouthful of murky water. It took several rasping coughs before his body slumped back onto the sand.

"Hatter," Alice said, leaning in to brush a thumb across his cheek as soon as he was properly laying down again.

Hatter's eyes - oddly enough once again lined in black - opened just enough for her to see a strip of that molten brown. When his gaze landed on her, his cracked lips curved up in a smile. "Alice," he breathed, voice hoarse and weak. "Knew you'd fin' me." Then, with a sigh, his eyes rolled back in his head.


	12. Reunited

"Hatter!" Alice's heart went into overdrive as she cradled his face in her hands, trying to stir him to consciousness again. _Please, no, let him be okay...Not like this..._

"It's all right," Rory said quickly, his fingers pressed against the pulse point in Hatter's neck. "He's alive. Charlie, let's start a fire. We need to get him warm." While the men hurried about clearing a spot to start a fire, Alice peeled off her jacket and tucked it in around Hatter's legs. Then she stretched out on the ground and wrapped herself against his side as tightly as she could to share her body heat.

"Stay with me, Hatter," she whispered against the side of his neck, rubbing her free hand up and down his other arm to chase away the chill. "You're not leaving me now. Not after all this."

Rory and Charlie got a campfire built up in a place where they had cleared away all of the grass, and they slid Hatter as close to it as was safe. Rory helped Alice get the drenched tunic off of Hatter, and they replaced it with Rory's suit jacket. Alice never left his side during the following few hours, alternating between cleaning all of the visible injuries and rubbing warmth into his skin.

There were definitely plenty of injuries to tend to; scratches and bruises and the gaping hole in his shoulder that was crusted over with blood and dirt. He looked like he'd been in a brutal fight and lost, which made no sense to her. Hatter never lost a fight. She picked up his right hand, wondering if he'd hurt it. That was the only way she could imagine him losing a fight.

As she was examining his dirty fingers, she spotted something else: bruises and chafing around his wrist. On closer inspection, she saw the same marks on his left wrist, as well as just above his ankles. The truth made nausea burn up inside of her.

"They _tortured_ him," she said coldly, sitting up to look incredulously at the others. "He was tied up and defenceless when they did this to him. Who would do something like that?" Even as she said it, she knew it was a ridiculous question. She could still remember the scrapes and blood on his face that Mad March had inflicted while he'd been held at the Casino, as well as the burns and bruises on his torso from the Doctors Dee and Dum. He had never told her exactly what happened – _just a few cuts and bruises_ , he'd always say – but she knew that not all of it could've come from fighting his way free.

"We can't stay here long," Rory said, tactfully dodging her observation. "That bird could be back, or someone could come looking for him. We need to get back to Wonderland soon as we can."

"Not until he wakes up," said Alice, rubbing Hatter's hands between both of hers. "Not until I know he's okay."

"If we get eaten by the Juby, none of us is going to be okay," Rory said, but he didn't argue further, gun at the ready as he kept watch at the edge of their little camp.

Alice swallowed hard against the thought and turned her attention back to Hatter. The wound in his shoulder had cracked, and blood was seeping out into the jacket. "We've got to stop this bleeding," she said, applying pressure with her palm.

"I can fix that," said Charlie. He walked over to Gawain and pulled something from inside of the saddlebag, and then came back to them. He knelt down with a groan and unrolled a strip of leather, revealing a pair of white needles and a knotted twist of thread.

"You're going to stitch him?" Alice asked dubiously.

"It is one of the many necessary skills of a knight," Charlie said with his usual bravado. Narrowing his eyes, he set about trying to untangle the thread while murmuring a handful of unfamiliar curse words beneath his breath.

"Here, give it here," Alice said, grabbing the string from his hand. Charlie sputtered indignantly, but she ignored him as she deftly started picking apart the little knots. When she’d finished, she gave the length of thread back to him with a smile. "It's easier when you have fingernails.”

The knight twitched his jaw irritably, looking torn between gratitude and frustration. He apparently decided not to answer, and just took the string and threaded it through the needle. "Fingerbone of a Tove," he said when he caught her staring. "I caught it myself when I stood no taller than a Sycaric bush. I was studying under the tutelage of Sir-"

"Charlie," Alice cut in, "could we focus, please?"

"Right, of course." Charlie cleared his throat and examined the wound critically. "I'll need your help, Just-Alice." He showed her in the proper places to hold the skin together – she tried her hardest not to feel ill as blood stained her fingertips – and then, after running water over the wound to clean it, he plunged in the needle. Alice locked her jaw and turned her gaze away. She had never been squeamish but somehow because it was Hatter it made everything so much worse.

" _Ow_." Alice turned back, and her gaze landed immediately on a pair of squinted brown eyes. "Mouldy tea leaves," Hatter cursed thickly and tried to move.

"Hold still," she said gently, moving one hand from his injured shoulder to push down on his chest.

Hatter's eyes flicked blearily to her, and she watched the recognition click. "Alice," he breathed. "It–" He broke off with a hiss as Charlie laced another stitch through his shoulder. "It wasn' a dream," he finished in awe.

"Of course not," she replied. "Now just hold still for a second. We're nearly finished." Hatter closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, breathing pointedly through his nose, as Charlie continued to stitch the wound. Alice's hand found his and squeezed it reassuringly, and he clung to her like a lifeline until the tips of her fingers began to tingle from the loss of circulation. Finally, Charlie knotted the thread and cut it with a dagger.

"Done?" Hatter asked, opening his eyes just a fraction.

In response, Alice leant in and kissed him. Hatter seemed startled for a second, and then she felt his smile against her lips as he returned the gesture. When they pulled apart, he was beaming, and he nuzzled his forehead against hers affectionately. "Finally," he breathed.

Alice sat up, laughing softly. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Like I've been run over by a bloody diesel," he said, wrinkling his nose.

"A what?" Charlie asked in confusion.

Hatter's eyes darted sideways, noticing the knight for the first time, and his grin widened. "Charlie?" he asked, surprised.

"It is good to see you well, Harbinger," Charlie said and returned the smile generously.

"Not sure ‘well’ is the word for it," said Hatter, grimacing as he struggled to sit up. He didn't make it. "I've 'ad better days. And 'pparently I'm startin' to talk like an Oyster."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Alice teased, and he smirked, his lip cracking so that a bead of blood appeared. Her good humour dissipated slightly, and she asked, "Hatter, what happened to you?"

"Bad time o' year for a swim," he said with a shiver. "I neva' learn. One time I wen' for a dip in the lake with – erm, well 'er name ain' important. Anywhich, buck naked in the mid o' the cold season. Nearly lost _all_ me extremities. Hey-" His eyes panned up, and he grinned. "You brought me hat. Thought I'd neva' see 'er again."

Alice smiled and touched the brim. "Well, what's a Hatter without his hat?"

"I like to think 'e's still a decent bloke," he replied cheekily. He tried to get up again, and this time Alice bent in, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and helping him into a sitting position. Hatter leant into her side, letting her hold up most of his weight. "Where we at?"

"Outside Wonderland, apparently," Alice said.

Hatter nodded grimly. "We need to get back to Wonderland before they come after me.”

Charlie huffed and drew his sword. "I will stand and fight! Who committed this dire act of violence against you, that I might avenge in your name and the name of Alice-of-Legend?"

"Don't." The sudden seriousness of Hatter's expression caught them unawares. "Just let it go."

"I will not stand idly by and allow this grievous injustice to go unpunished," Charlie argued.

"Trust me, these're not the sor' of people you mess with," Hatter insisted. "I mean it; I don' wan' either of you anywhere near 'er."

Charlie swelled indignantly, his face purpling. "I am the paladin, and I do not take orders from a harbinger."

"This time, you do," Hatter said, and his tone left no room for argument. Not for the first time, she wondered if there was more to Hatter's history than he was letting on because he exuded the power of authority. Even pale and battered, he was an intimidating sight as he stared down the older Knight.

"Who did this to you?" Alice asked gently to break the tense moment, although she was no longer sure that she wanted to know.

"Someone I dearly 'ope you neva' meet," Hatter answered, vague but sincere. "Olde' and more powerful than the Queen of Hearts could dream of bein'. I just want to put s'much space 'tween us and 'er as we can."

"He's right," Rory said. Hatter craned his head around in alarm to see who was talking. "We came to get him back and nothing more. We should return to Wonderland and inform the king of what's happening."

"Who the 'ell are you?" Hatter asked, eyeing the gun in Rory's hand distrustfully.

"Rory Capricorn, sir," the Suit said, placing a fist over his heart and bowing his head. "Ranked soldier in His Majesty's royal guard."

"A Suit," Hatter translated. He looked at Alice incredulously. "You brought a Suit?"

"Rory's been a great help," she said in the other man's defence. "I wouldn't have made it here without him."

Hatter glanced between them both for a second longer, and then he nodded. "Thanks, then." He groaned and rolled his stitched shoulder. "We should move. They might come afta' me."

"You can hardly sit up," Alice protested. "And you're still half-frozen."

"An' if they catch us up, they'll kill you," Hatter said, impassioned. At her frown, his expression softened. "I'll be fine, love. I've been worse an' I'm still 'ere, ain't I?"

As Alice took in his beaten appearance, she had a hard time believing he'd ever been in a worse condition, but he was giving her that look of complete openness that meant he was admitting a truth that he usually kept quiet. She had also never seen so much fear in his eyes, so whoever was after him must be truly terrifying.

"He can take the horse," Rory offered. "If you ride with him, you can keep an eye on him. Besides, we only have a couple more hours until we’ll have to stop for dark."

"Fine," Alice relented grudgingly, only because she had run out of reasonable arguments. She helped Hatter into his now mostly dry shirt, while the other two cleared up the evidence of their campsite. It took the combined effort of Rory and Alice to get Hatter onto Gawain's back – Charlie tried to help, but he was more of a nuisance than anything. Once he was settled, they boosted Alice up behind him. She got as comfortable as she could, and then reached her arms around his waist to put her hands over his on the reins.

"You know, last time we was on an 'orse, I tried to get ya to do this wit' me and you said no," Hatter pointed out playfully.

"And if you weren't about to fall over you'd still be on your own," she replied, transfering his hat back to its rightful place on his head. Still, she couldn't fight a smile; at least he was still making jokes, that had to mean he would be all right.

Hatter chuckled. "I'mma fall more of'en."

They rode back toward the distant forest, Charlie and Rory walking on either side of them like bodyguards. For a while, it was quiet except for the sounds of their march, but their added height granted Alice and Hatter some privacy from the others. She nestled her cheek against his back and murmured, "I missed you."

"You too," he replied, and he lifted one of her hands to place a tender kiss on the inside of her wrist. He laced their fingers together before returning them to the reins. "You're all righ', aren't you? I mean, Gryphon didn' hurt you, did he?"

"I'm all right," she said. "Although we're going to have to replace the door frame in the bedroom when we get home. You broke it."

"Need to work on me aim," he said, shaking his head. "Goin' soft in your world."

"Because you were supposed to be able to," Alice said. "What do they want from you?"

"Information," he replied. "O'ny it's information I don' know, but dey think I do. People 'ere don' take my word so easy as they do in your world."

"How did they get through anyway?" she asked. "The Looking Glass was locked."

"That I dunno," he admitted, touching the Stone of Wonderland on her finger idly. "Must've found a way to stabilise one of the wild Rabbit Holes, I reckon. Wonderland's full of secrets, and no one knows 'em all."

Alice mused over that enigmatic response for a minute and felt a weight settle in the pit of her stomach. "So we can't just go home," she concluded. "Because they'll just keep coming after you."

Hatter's shoulders slumped in defeat, but his tone was determined. "We'll figure somethin'."

When the sun reached the horizon, they stopped for the night at a flattened clearing beside the river. A few metres up the opposite bank, a wooden pallet had snagged in the reeds, and the sight of it made Hatter chuckle. "So tha's where it ended up," he said. At Alice's questioning noise he added, "That's me boat. Or it was 'til it ditched me back there."

"You were riding _that_ down the river?" she asked incredulously.

"Aye, not s'nice as Bianca," he lamented. Alice rolled her eyes; he had a strange attachment to his old smuggling boat, which he'd sold before leaving Wonderland. The first time she'd heard him talking about it, she'd thought Bianca was an old girlfriend, which had led to a confusing and ultimately funny row. Hatter tossed a sly smirk her way, and she knew he was thinking of the same thing.

Although he tried his hardest to hide it, Hatter was obviously in considerable pain as they helped him off the horse. The moment he was on the ground, Alice commanded him to sit so she could check over the worst of his injuries. He complied with an exasperated huff.

"Who knew you were such a fussy-fish," he remarked in amusement as she tilted his chin up to examine the swollen scratches on his neck.

"A what?" Alice asked distractedly.

"A fussy-fish," said Hatter, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and she knew she was about to be treated to one of an endless supply of Wonderland peculiarities. "You know, one o' them folks what's always dartin' 'bout and fussin' over thin's."

Alice moved from his neck to the stitches in his shoulder. "You mean a worry-wart?"

Hatter snorted and stared at her disbelievingly. "A wart?" he echoed. "What in the cards 'as a wart got to worry 'bout?"

"Not a – _hold still_ – not a literal wart," she said, critically eyeing a spot where the stitches had pulled at the skin and made it bleed. "It's just a figure of speech, I think."

"Mental," he said with a grin.

"Well, what have fish got to worry about then?" Alice pointed out, moving on from the stitches.

"Bein' eaten, o' course," he replied and gave her a look like that should've been clear. "Fussies are delicious, if you 'an catch one. Fast buggers an' they're right paranoid; bolt at the firs' sign o' so much as a shadow. Taste great with cheese, though."

"You know sometimes I think you make all of these things up just to laugh at me," she said.

"I mean it," he said earnestly. "Ya grill 'em up and melt a bit of cheese o'er em. Best way."

"I think she means about the fish," Rory chipped in. "And they're real. Little blue fish that live in the rivers up in the mountains. They're a bit of a delicacy since they're so hard to catch." Hatter gave her a pointed look and smiled.

"This place makes no sense," was her only response. Hatter and Rory both chuckled quietly at her annoyance.

Alice was in a much better mood that night as they gathered around the campfire to eat their meagre dinner. Having Hatter by her side again, even in his sorry state, was comforting. He seemed to feel the same way, as he was more affectionate than usual, reaching out every few seconds just to squeeze her hand or brush her knee.

When Rory and Charlie turned to exchanging stories again on their side of the fire, Hatter brushed his fingers over the sleeve of her coat. "You know, it's good to see ya in that coat 'gain," he said with a grin. "Brings back some nice mem'ries."

"Those were _nice_ memories?" Alice asked. "Running for our lives and being shot at constantly?"

"Well," he said and shrugged, "the wet dress was nice anyway." Alice laughed and nudged him with her elbow. Hatter leant into her side and gazed up thoughtfully. "I've missed the stars 'ere," he said. "They're diff'rent than in your world."

Alice tilted her head back and looked up at the sky. The indigo blanket was speckled with glimmering white spots, interspersed with dots of red and pale blue. She searched but couldn't find any of the familiar constellations that her father had taught her when she was young. "They seem closer here," she observed curiously. "And brighter."

"The skies're clearer," Hatter said. "The pollution from the Casino mus' be fin'lly cleaned out."

"We've been gone eight years," she said, reaching down and weaving their fingers together.

"It shoulda been more," he said and frowned. "It's slowed down 'ere. Somethin's gone off."

Alice drew closer to his side as a chill raced down her spine. "Charlie says the magic's coming back."

"Yeah, I can feel it," he agreed. He was rubbing the fingertips of his free hand together like the magic was a tangible thing he could hold in his grip. "Could be what's got things off. They said when magic was 'ere before it made the 'ole world a mad place. No sense at all. Bit like those books o' yours say."

"You mean like talking animals and shrinking potions and Cheshire cats?" she asked.

"Not quite that," he amended with a laugh. "Well, 'cept the Cheshire cats, but they ne'er really went away. Just in hidin', they say, and they show up wheneve' something interestin' 'appens. The week I've 'ad, I'm more'n ready to believe that." There was something in the lines of his face that told her there was more he wasn't saying.

Trying to lighten the tone, she conversationally said, "I had a really weird dream about a Cheshire cat a couple days ago."

Hatter reacted wildly, pivoting to look at her so fast that his hat tipped back to a precarious angle on his head. "You what?" he asked. "When? Why didn' you say?"

Flabbergasted, Alice was about to answer when Rory abruptly stood up on the opposite side of the fire, his hand on his holster. "What is it?" she asked in concern.

The Suit narrowed his eyes and then his jaw set. "Someone's coming," he said, drawing his gun. Alice turned in alarm, and through the darkness, she could just make out a large mass of shadows heading their way. She cursed, drawing out the gun she'd taken from Hatter's shop. "Alice, take Hatter and go," Rory said. "Charlie and I will cover you."

Charlie was noisily clunking to his feet, murmuring war cries and curses to himself, as Alice turned to Hatter. She had just taken his arm when hoofbeats broke the silence. Apparently, their pursuers knew that they'd been spotted. "Are you going to be able to ride?" she asked Hatter as she helped him steady on his feet.

"Don' worry 'bout me, love," he said determinedly, in that familiar tone that usually preceded him doing something noble and stupid.

Alice huffed. "I didn't come all this way just to lose you again now." She held onto Gawain's reins, prepared to help him up onto the saddle. Hatter made no motion, his eyes fixed on something passed her shoulder. She spun around to see another cluster of shadowy horsemen coming at them from the other direction. Cursing, she turned and saw a third group on their other side. They were surrounded, backed against the rushing river.

"Lower your weapons!" roared a loud, coarse voice from the fore-group. Hatter lifted his open hands as Rory and Alice obediently set their guns on the ground. Charlie let out an indignant sputter and raised his sword higher.

"The White Knight lowers his sword for no-one!" he bellowed. The horsemen reached the edge of their camp, finally bathed in the light of the fire, and Charlie sputtered. Immediately dropping his sword, he knelt creakily and bowed his head. "Your majesty."

A large man rode slightly ahead of the others and eyed them with a confident grin. His face was wreathed in shaggy, copper hair and the firelight was reflected in his iris-less white eyes. "I'm glad we could catch up to you before you got too far," the man said, addressing Hatter. "It was a bit disappointing when we got inside my sister's fortress only to find you missing."

"Aye, well, sorry to dis'point," Hatter replied, the faintest tremor under his usual bravado that only Alice was close enough to pick up on. He stepped deliberately in front of Alice and fixed the horseman with a flat expression. "That make you the White Prince, then?"

The man let out a booming, baritone laugh. "You’re as clever as they say, Hatter," he noted with amusement. "Prince and Knight of the White Kingdom, but you, my friend, can call me the Lion."


	13. The Lion

The entire party was frozen for several long seconds, staring at the new arrivals. Alice fidgeted uneasily. The Lion? There had been a lion in her dream, too. Grimacing, she reached forward and took Hatter's hand, squeezing it protectively.

Seemingly encouraged by her touch, Hatter finally found his voice again. "No 'ffence, but we're not friends," he said. "I'm not much a fan of any you Whites righ' now."

"If you're talking about my sister, I'm not on the greatest of terms with her either," the Lion responded. "She's tried to kill me one too many times for me to forgive her readily. By the looks of it, that's something we have in common."

"Oh, this?" Hatter asked flippantly, arching an eyebrow. "This is nothin'. Just a few cuts an' bruises."

The Lion smiled, and in the glint of the firelight, his teeth looked unnaturally sharp. "I'm glad to hear it," he said. "In that case, I would like you to accompany me back to my castle. It would be my honour to have you as my guests."

"A’tually, we were just on our way ‘ome," Hatter protested nonchalantly, but Alice could feel the tension thrumming through his body from their joined hands. She was suddenly grateful to be on his left side; with him so tightly coiled, his right hand easily would've broken hers to pieces. "S'been a long couple days. I'm ready for this holiday to be o'er."

Although the smile never left his face, something sinister slipped over the Lion's expression and sent a chill down Alice's spine. "I wasn't _asking._ "

Hatter glanced quickly over his shoulder, and Alice caught the warning in his eyes; they were going to have to comply, at least for the time being. "Right, well if you 'sist," he said, still trying to sound casual. "After all, 'ow many chances you get to see the castle of people who aren't s'pose to exist?"

The Lion gestured vaguely to the group of soldiers behind him, and two of them rode forward, holding the reins of four riderless horses. At the same time, one of the soldiers came forward and picked up the discarded guns, tucking them into the belt around his tunic, and passed Charlie's sword on to another. "If you would mount, we can be on our way," the Lion said. "We should reach the castle by morning."

Alice stayed behind Hatter as they turned back to Gawain, but when she tried to help him up onto the stallion, he shook her off with a pointed glance. Apparently, he didn't want to show off his weakness in front of the prince. His jaw clenched as he heaved himself into the saddle, but he kept his expression neutral. Before anyone could object, Alice grabbed the edges of the saddle and pulled herself up behind him.

"We have plenty of horses," the Lion said.

"Good for you," Alice replied unconcernedly as she wrapped her arms around Hatter's waist. She was just close enough to hear his soft chuckle at her cheeky response.

"Very well," the Lion said and nodded, before turning his horse in a sharp about-face. The soldiers reformed their ranks as Rory and Charlie both mounted horses of their own. In the end, the soldiers formed a tight square around them, the captives riding close together with the prince directly in front of them.

"Hatter," Alice whispered into his shoulder so that only he would hear. "Who are these people?"

"He's a White," Hatter replied darkly. "They're the otha' line of royalty in Wonderland. Like the Queen of 'earts comes from the Red line. Only the Whites s'posedly died out when the Queen came to power. No one's seen 'em in a good cent'ry, a'least."

"So what, they've just been hiding out here all that time?" Alice asked.

" 'Parently," Hatter answered. "That's who had me brought here, a White princess called the Unicorn."

Alice blanched, her grip tightening around Hatter in alarm. Unicorn? So they were now entangled with both a unicorn and a lion. Her mind flashed to the dream she'd had before coming to Wonderland, and the vicious battle between the two animals. The unicorn had trampled the hat, and now she had found out that the person who had tortured Hatter was called the Unicorn. It couldn't be a coincidence, not in Wonderland.

"You okay, love?" Hatter asked in concern, glancing over his shoulder at her.

"Yeah, fine," she said, and she met his gaze pointedly. "I was just thinking about what we were talking about before these guys showed up." Hatter's jaw tightened, and he nodded in understanding. "It's oddly relevant now."

Hatter scowled, and she felt his body tense. She could see that he was burning to ask her about it, but he squinted furtively at the Lion directly ahead of them and stayed silent. Alice also looked forward at their leader and frowned. She had no idea who this prince was, but if her dream was anything to go by then at least they were better off than with the Unicorn.

It wasn't much, but it was hope.

They rode clean through the night in the same awkward silence. The deeper they got into the night, the more Alice could feel Hatter starting to deteriorate. What little strength he'd regained was melting away fast, and his energy was flagging. For his sake, she hoped they were nearly there. He needed a chance to properly rest and recover.

An hour later, the horizon was just beginning to lighten and, finally, the Lion stopped their group. Alice nudged Hatter, whose head had been sagging, and he straightened up. Ahead of them, the first wash of morning light was warming a quiet valley between two grassy knolls. In the middle of the valley stood the decayed remains of a castle, the white stones draped in vines. Trees grew up through the ceiling and their twisting, gnarled branches poked holes through the cracks in the walls. It was hauntingly beautiful, much the same as the old kingdom in the Forest of Wabe where Charlie lived.

"You live 'ere?" Hatter asked in surprise. "Bit of a fixer-upper, yeah?"

The Lion glanced over his shoulder and smirked, but made no response. Instead, he started forward again, leading them into the valley through a long row of ornate columns shaped like chess pieces. In the end, they reached an enormous stretch of brick wall. It looked like it might've had a mural carved into it at one point but time and vegetation had worn the surface down to nothing more than a pockmarked façade.

No one moved or spoke as the Lion rode forward. He reached out and placed his hand into one of the hollows in the wall. There was a small flash of white light, and then the ground began to shake with a deep humming sound. Alice watched in awe as the wall split down the middle and slid away, revealing an enormous corridor that sloped down into the earth.

Alice shifted uncomfortably as the group moved down into the opening. As much as she hated being in Wonderland city, she would still prefer that over being underground. At least the openness of the city had provided plenty of room to run and escape. Hatter squeezed her hand reassuringly, but she could feel the tension in his spine that said he was just as unsettled.

Inside the corridor, the Lion steered their group through a large archway on the left. The room beyond was a cavernous stable yard, lined on either side with paddocks that housed dozens of horses. At their arrival, a cluster of workers dressed in maroon and brown hurried forward to take care of the animals as soldiers began dismounting.

The Lion signalled, and Alice got the hint to follow suit. She slipped down off the saddle and waited cautiously while Hatter carefully slid down. His knees wavered underneath him when his feet hit the ground, but his grip on the saddle kept him from crumpling to the stone floor. As a worker appeared and led their horse away, Hatter slung an arm around Alice's shoulders, and she immediately wrapped her own around his waist. To anyone else, the movement looked casual and not like she was practically the only thing keeping him upright.

"Before we go any further," the Lion said, and a maroon-clad man appeared at his side hefting a strange leather contraption. It seemed to be a thick belt, with a smaller metal cuff attached to it by a single link. "Mr Hatter, if you wouldn't mind?"

"What the hell is that?" Alice asked, seising Hatter's elbow when he made to step forward.

"It's just a precaution," the Lion said, but there was something malicious about his smile. "Even in the outer lands, we have heard of the Right Hand of Death."

"Not me favourite nickname," Hatter said with a resigned sigh. He offered a quick smile to Alice. "Don't worry, love." With that, he stepped up to the servant. Two of the soldiers took the belt and fastened it around Hatter's waist, pulling it tight and securing it with a strange lock and pin. They then took Hatter's right arm and closed the metal cuff around his wrist. His arm was trapped close to his body, right hand unable to move more than an inch from his waist.

"See, now we can talk without any nasty business," the Lion said, walking up to stand directly in front of Hatter. His eyes landed on Hatter's other hand, and he smirked at the bruising around his thumb. "Although it seems you've slipped a bond recently. Perhaps we should..." And he adjusted the cuff so that the edges of it bit into Hatter's skin, giving him no room to twist free. "Much better."

"Couldn'a least done anotha colour?" Hatter quipped, wrinkling his nose at the belt as he tested the give of the cuff. "A fan o' blue meself."

The Lion grinned but ignored the comment. "If you'd follow me, we can get you settled in," he said with an airy wave of the hand. "I'm sure you'd like some time to relax after the journey."

The four of them exchanged quick glances before following the Lion out of the stable and back into the main corridor. Hatter had draped his free arm around Alice again and tried not to let it show how much he was leaning into her as he limped beside her.

Alice, meanwhile, looked over at Charlie who had been uncharacteristically quiet. There was a look of awe and reverence in his eyes as he clunked along with them that turned his boyish face brighter, even though his jaw was clenched. "Old loyalty," Hatter whispered when he followed her gaze. "He's a White Knight, after all."

It struck her for the first time just what that meant. When they had met Charlie, he had been defending the throne of the Red King, but she'd never considered the fact that he wasn't a Red himself. What must it be like for Charlie to find his people again after all this time? To realise that the line he was meant to serve actually still existed? She couldn't even begin to imagine his conflict.

From the entrance corridor, they moved through a set of double doors, and Alice nearly staggered in surprise. They were inside an elegant courtyard, doors and passages branching off in every direction. The centre was a wild garden, wild plants curling around each other and flowers of every colour blooming behind floor-to-ceiling windows. The ceiling was also made of paned glass that was half grown over by vegetation. It was a jungle; a beautiful, sun-dappled jungle inside a stone and glass prison.

Hatter whistled appreciatively. "By the Cards, 'ow big is this place?"

"Larger even than my sister's castle," said the Lion, smug.

"That don’t ’elp. She didn't 'xactly give me the grand tour," Hatter pointed out glibly. "Poor manners, really."

"That's my sister for you," the Lion said. "We will have a tour, but later. First, you should rest." He led them through one of the passages on the right and down a winding series of tunnels decorated with vibrant paintings and tapestries of epic battles. Finally, he stopped in a large square foyer with doors on the three sides. "A room for each of you," he said, gesturing grandly. "I imagine Miss Alice-of-Legend will be sharing your room?" he added to Hatter.

"Yes, she will," Alice replied frostily. She hated when people tried to speak around her like she wasn't capable of speaking for herself. It was the same way the Caterpillar had treated her. Hatter squeezed her shoulder, but she saw a dimple appear in his cheek as he swallowed back a smile.

The Lion seemed unfazed by her response. "Then please," he said and pointed to the room directly across from them. Charlie entered the room on the right and Rory the one on the left, while Alice and Hatter let themselves into the proffered room.

The suite itself was extravagant, with plush white carpets and a bed large enough for six. There was a writing desk against one wall and a large mirror on the other. A wardrobe stood open beside the desk with a wide array of clothes folded neatly on the wooden shelves.

"You will join me for dinner," the Lion said from the doorway. He gestured, and one of the soldiers walked up to unlocked the cuff around Hatter’s wrist. Alice noticed that he backed off rather quickly once Hatter's hand was free. "Until then, your time is your own. It would be appreciated if you did not try to leave the room. There will be sentries posted outside, and they have been ordered to shoot on sight."

Hatter smirked. "You wouldn't kill us.”

A flash of overly sharp teeth came in response. "I would rather you dead than let you fall into my sister's grasp again," he said coolly. The smile on Hatter's face flickered ever so slightly. "Now please, rest and enjoy yourselves." He closed the door behind him as he left and even Alice could hear the distinctive click of the lock being turned.

The moment the footsteps outside had faded from earshot, Hatter sagged against Alice. "Hatter," she gasped in alarm, throwing her arms around him to keep him upright. His face was pale, and there was a thin layer of sweat glimmering on his brow. She helped him to the bed, where he collapsed on the mattress.

"Cracked kettles," he cursed, panting heavily.

"Just a few cuts and bruises, huh?" she teased to lighten the mood, and he smirked.

"Might'a exaggerated a bit," he admitted. He scooted up so he was properly on the bed and Alice climbed up next to him, toeing out of her trainers. "Neck deep in the marmite, ain't we?"

"What?" Alice asked, lips quirking up on one side.

"In a right spot o' trouble," he clarified.

"What does he want with us, Hatter?" she asked.

Hatter frowned, his eyes darkening. "If he wants the same thing's the Unicorn, he wants information from me," he said. "Location o' someone, on'y I dunno where he is. But for some reason or anotha, they think I do. Somethin' about me granddad." He shrugged and massaged his right wrist where the cuff had left red marks deep in the skin.

"He called you the Right Hand of Death," Alice said, scowling. "Why?"

"Got me a reputation, don' I?" he said. He seemed far less perturbed by it than she was, which made her think this title wasn't news to him. "You seen what this 'and can do. I've thrown a few punches in me day, and word's got 'round. It's not the best name I've been called but not the worst either." His expression tensed, and he said, "What's got me worried is you."

"Me?" Alice asked, surprised.

"You said you dreamed 'bout a Cheshire cat," he said.

"Yeah, so?" she said. "It's not the first time."

At this, Hatter sat up even though it was obviously painful. He twisted on the bed to face her, expression grim and frightened. "It's happened 'fore? When?"

"Last time I was here," she said. "When I left for the Casino, I fell asleep in the woods and dreamt about it. I thought it was Dinah at first but then it smiled, and it had these teeth..."

"Alice, I need you to tell me exactly what the Cheshire showed you this time," he said.

So she recounted every detail of the dream that she could remember. Hatter's brow furrowed the further she got into her story, and he looked positively ghostly by the time she'd finished. "Is that everythin’?" he pressed. "Was there anythin’ else? Did the Cheshire say anything to you?"

"Hatter, what's going on?" she asked, scared by his reaction. "It was just a dream, right?" Except even she had guessed that it was more than that.

"Cheshire dreams aren't normal," Hatter explained in the same tone he'd once used before when he'd asked _Does this look like a children's story to you?_ She had a feeling he was about to further destroy her perception of the way things worked in Wonderland. "Cheshires’re magic, and they on’y show up at the most ‘portant parts of ‘istory. Last time someone saw a proper Cheshire in Wonderland was when the first Alice was ‘ere. They're omens of a sort, premonitions of change."

"So when I saw one last time-?"

"You ended up bringin’ down the house of cards, didn'cha?" he prompted. "And this time - Don't you see it, love? Everything that's ‘appened since. It was a warnin’."

"Something is going on between the Lion and Unicorn," she concluded. "Something that involves you - the hat - and something to do with a pocket-watch."

"Time," Hatter said grimly. "Tha's what the Unicorn kept asking me about. She's lookin’ for someone named Time, and she thinks I know where he's at."

"But you don't?"

Hatter grimaced. "She didn' seem to agree," he said and rolled his injured left shoulder.

"That's why she tortured you," she said. "So you'd tell her where this Time person is." Hatter didn't answer, laying down on his back. He sighed, and his eyes fluttered shut. From where she was sitting by his head, the shadows beneath his eyes were even more pronounced, standing out against his pallid skin.

"Sleep, Hatter," she said, propping her back against the headboard and crossing her ankles. Talking about it more wasn't going to do them any good, not until they got more answers. "I'll keep watch."

"You need sleep too," he countered, but there was already an exhausted slur to his voice.

"I’ll sleep later," she said unconcernedly. She nudged his hat aside and carded her fingers through his hair. Hatter hummed with pleasure and leant his cheek against the side of her thigh. "This time, it's my turn to make sure you're taken care of."

Hatter smiled in his sleep.


	14. Dreams and Dinner

_It was raining, great fat drops of water falling from the sky and creating enormous puddles all around her. Except no, it wasn't ordinary rain. There was a sound being carried on the wind. Sobs. Someone was crying, deep, shuddery sobs that coincided with the bursts of salt-water raindrops. Who was big enough to create tears that size?_

_Alice pivoted around, looking for some sign of the person as the water built up to her ankles. The only thing in her field of vision was a large leaf, its sides curled up to make a concave shape. So, it wasn't the other person who was so big; it was Alice who was so small._

_The water had reached her knees, and Alice sprinted through the waves for the leaf. It crunched as she climbed inside but the greenery held. The moment she was inside, the water rushed up again, and the leaf set off sailing across the expanse of blue-grey._

_"This is unreal," Alice muttered to herself as she stood shakily in the bowl of the leaf, looking out over the endless sea of tears._

_"Impossible things rarely are." The familiar, sing-song voice startled Alice, and she looked up at the stem of the leaf. The Cheshire cat was sitting on the raised stem, licking a paw lazily._

_"You again," Alice said in surprise._

_"Yes, we are becoming quite friendly, aren't we?" The Cheshire lowered its paw and flashed a toothy smile at her._

_"Friendlier if you'd just tell me things instead of giving me stupid riddles," Alice snapped irritably. "I could've protected Hatter if you'd just told me what was coming."_

_"But then it wouldn't have happened," the Cheshire pointed out. "And things that happen must happen so they can happen. Even an Oyster like you must know that."_

_"You make no sense," Alice said, turning her back. The Cheshire was sitting on the ground just in front of her and Alice jumped in surprise. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the stem was empty._

_"I make perfect sense." The Cheshire's voice had dropped in pitch and taken on an angry hiss. "You just refuse to_ listen."

_"Fine, I'm listening then," Alice said. She sat down in front of the cat and folded her arms. "So talk."_

_"Wonderland is going mad," the Cheshire said, fixing its luminous eyes on her. It laid down and tucked its front paws beneath its chest, wrapping its tail in around its body in an oddly protective position. "The balance is shifted. The chessboard is uneven."_

_"What am I supposed to do about it?" Alice asked._

_"Selfish Oyster. Not all legends are for you.”_

_"Hatter?" Alice asked, and the cat purred loudly. "Then why don't you tell_ him _these things then?"_

_The Cheshire's purr fragmented into laughter. "Dangerous place to venture, the mind of a Mad Hatter. Once was enough, thank you." It turned its head, and Alice followed its gaze. On a rocky plateau that was just barely above the lapping water stood a beautiful sheep, its thick, curled wool the colour of the freshest snow. It was chained to the stone and bleating morosely._

_"What is that?" Alice asked._

_"Your goal," replied the Cheshire._

_"A sheep?" Alice frowned. "We're supposed to find a sheep?"_

_"Don't be ridiculous," the Cheshire said, shooting her a patronising look. "Pay attention, little Oyster." It looked down, and Alice followed. On the floor of the leaf between them were three things: a wriggling lizard, three small hillocks of rock arranged in a row, and a little bouquet of wildflowers. "Follow the directions, and he'll find you there."_

_"What directions? Who will?" Alice asked, but she blinked, and the cat was gone. Standing up, Alice looked around hopefully, but she was once again alone on her leaf in the middle of the ocean of tears._

_"Protect him, Alice." The voice came from nowhere and everywhere, but it was definitely not the Cheshire cat this time. The voice was feminine and sweet, and it reverberated with power unlike anything Alice had ever felt before. It was a voice that could shape worlds. Looking up, she could just faintly make out a shape in the clouds, a smooth profile amid a pale gold halo. "He is the last hope of Wonderland."_

_An enormous tidal wave swept over her, capsizing the little leaf, and she was spiralling down through the water… Down… And down… And down…_

* * *

Hatter climbed carefully off the bed, making sure not to wake Alice, who had fallen asleep propped against the headboard at some point. He stood and was grateful that his legs held him easily. A nice, long sleep had done him good. Snatching up his hat from where it lay on the pillow, he toed across the room to the mirror and took in his reflection.

The bruises and cuts on his face had faded slightly, changing into more natural colours, and the shadows beneath his eyes had lessened. Curious, he tugged his shirt free of the leather band still fastened around his waist - mighty uncomfortable, that - and peeled off the stiff tunic. Half of the cuts on his chest looked like nothing more than raised welts and the stitched hole in his shoulder was puckered where the skin was starting to close up.

Smiling smugly - always had been a fast healer, him - he turned and crossed to the wardrobe. Hatter rummaged through the folded shirts and trousers methodically before finally settling on dark brown trousers and plain, maroon shirtsleeves. It was a far cry from what he preferred, but it was at least a right sight better than the muddied white outfit he was wearing at the mo. Smelled better, too.

He traded out the white cloth trousers for the brown corduroy ones and then pulled on the shirtsleeves. It took a great deal of effort and sucking in to get the shirt tucked beneath the leather belt the Lion had forced on him, but he managed it eventually. There were a few pair of sturdy boots and wool socks in the bottom of the wardrobe, and he gratefully pulled on a set. He was in the middle of rolling up his sleeves when the creak of bedsprings caught his attention.

Alice was awake, blinking owlishly from beneath the sleep-tangled fringe of her hair. She straightened up, and as her gaze fell on him, there was something wild and bright about her eyes. Hatter frowned nervously. "Love, you alright?"

"Hatter, you-" Instead of finishing that thought, Alice jumped down off the bed and crossed the room to him in quick strides. He had just opened his mouth to ask her what she was doing when she grabbed the collar of his shirt and dragged him down into a searing kiss. Sparks fired behind Hatter's eyes, and he could taste her Emotions on her tongue.

All in all, Hatter prided himself on being able to keep his head around Oyster Emotions. It had helped him manage the Tea Shoppe all those years without succumbing to his own products - which he only sampled on the rarest of occasions. Even living in Alice's world, he had been surprisingly resistant to the pull of Emotions that fluttered through the air around the Oysters like heady perfumes.

Of course, everything was different with Alice. And when he was this close, touching her skin and sharing her breaths, it was like downing a straight shot of Euphoria on an empty stomach. His limbs tingled, and his heart galloped like a stampeding Borogrove, and fire itched beneath his skin. At the same time, on top of his own emotions, he could taste hers; Happiness, Adoration, Passion, Excitement, and something bittersweet. Not Melancholy. More like – Nostalgia, maybe?

Hatter was panting for air by the time Alice dropped back down to her heels. He blinked a few times to clear his vision and took slow, steadying breaths through his nose to filter out the Emotions before speaking. "Not that I'm complainin', mind, but what was that for?" he asked curiously, tilting his head down to meet her stormy-blue gaze.

Alice abruptly released the front of his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles her grip had left. A warm blush spread across her cheeks and Hatter felt her Self-Consciousness as clearly as if it was his own. He had to resist the instinctive urge to double-check his appearance nervously.

"It's just you, looking like that," she said and took a step back to eye him up and down, "You look like Hatter again. Not David, but Hatter. _My_ Hatter."

Wrinkling his brow, Hatter glanced over at the mirror, and his reflection startled him. While the clothes weren't necessarily his style, they were closer than what he typically wore in Alice's world. The rest of him had made a subtle shift back toward the man he'd been in Wonderland. His hair, so tame and flat in the Oysterworld, was once again seeking to defy gravity and, with the hat and the kohl lines around his eyes, she was right. He looked like Hatter. Not David Hatter, but the Mad Hatter of Wonderland.

Hatter's shoulders squared up, and he smirked. He hadn't realised quite how much his time in Alice's world had changed him, slowly but surely. It had happened so minutely that he hadn't noticed, but it was true. He wasn't the same man who had jumped through a Looking Glass after the Oyster who'd stolen his heart.

Of course, that man also wasn't the same one who had first encountered a feisty Oyster in a very wet dress. It all came down to what she had said: he was _her_ Hatter.

A sudden look of unease flickered across Alice's face, and she frowned. "Hatter, I -"

The rest of her sentence was drowned out by a heavy knock on the door. "His Highness requests your presence at dinner," a male voice shouted through the wood. "As soon as you are properly dressed, we will depart."

Alice frowned and looked down at her dirty jeans and jumper. "I suppose I should change my clothes, shouldn't I?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.

"There's some rather lovely dresses," Hatter responded, opening the second door of the wardrobe to reveal a row of dresses in various shades of maroon hanging from metal hooks. "Fancy the red one meself."

Rolling her eyes at his cheek, she rummaged through the line of dresses to find something that she liked. After a few minutes of indecisiveness - and some rather unhelpful help from Hatter - she settled on one that was simple and comfortable, paired with brown leggings. She'd learned the hard way to always be prepared for running, just in case.

As she peeled off her jumper, Hatter froze. "Alice, is that-?"

Alice glanced down at her chest and saw the little golden locket she'd taken from his shop hanging against her breastbone. "Oh. Hatter, I'm sorry I took it," she said hastily. "I just - I thought if you'd hidden it away it must be important. You can-" She made to take it off, but Hatter stopped her.

"No, you keep it," he said, and the smile on his face was both pleased and sad. He traced a fingernail along the outline of the flower and his eyes softened fondly. "Was me mum's."

"Are you sure?" Alice asked uncertainly.

This time, Hatter's smile was full and genuine. "It'd look right silly on me," he said playfully. "But it looks good on you. Suits you. An' I think me mum'd be glad to know it's bein' worn 'gain."

Alice nodded, still hesitant but not willing to argue it further with him; he was always a little sensitive when it came to the topic of his family. She pulled the dress over her head and Hatter helped her with the zip, and then she slipped into a pair of soft, gold slippers that had been sitting in the bottom of the wardrobe. "Ready?" Hatter asked. Alice combed her fingers through her hair to smooth out the knots and then nodded.

When they tried the door, the lock was still placed. "Um, blokes, bit rough to make a date when we're locked in," Hatter called through the door.

"Right hand in the cuff, Hatter," the voice from the other side said.

Hatter sighed and rolled his eyes. "Alice?" he asked and held his hand in front of the cuff. Scowling, Alice fastened the metal link around his wrist, careful not to let it get too tight. Hatter fidgeted awkwardly and then turned his gaze to the wood. "All snug. Satisfied?"

In response, there was a _clink_ of the lock being turned, and the door swung open. Three soldiers were standing in a semicircle outside the door, guns trained on them. Alice immediately held up her hands and Hatter lifted the one that wasn't chained to his waist. The middle soldier stepped forward and checked the cuff around Hatter's wrist, tightening it until Hatter winced from the pressure.

At a nod from the first soldier, the other two lowered their guns. "If you'll follow me," he said with a cordial dip of his head, as if he hadn't just been pointing a gun in their faces.

" 'orrible manners, the lot," Hatter tsked as he and Alice fell into step behind the guard. The other two soldiers flanked them, and from the corner of his eyes, Hatter could see that none of them had holstered their guns. No one spoke as the soldiers escorted them down a winding path of abrupt turns until finally, they reached an open set of double doors.

The room beyond was a proper castle dining hall, with lines of pillars that extended up to sweeping buttresses in the arched ceiling. A long table made of bleached white wood spanned nearly the full length of the room, and a scarlet runner covered the top. There were a half dozen servants standing post at the far end of the chamber and, in an enormous throne-like chair at the head of the table, the Lion was lounging.

"Please, come, join me," he said, his booming voice easily crossing the lengthy room.

Alice hung onto Hatter's right arm as they walked to the other end of the table. At a gesture from the prince, Hatter sank into the chair on his right and Alice slipped into the one next to him. The rest of the table was deserted. "Where are Charlie and Rory?" she asked, frowning.

"Your companions will be taking supper in their rooms," the Lion said calmly. "I felt it would be better if it were just us. We have matters to discuss." He waved a hand, and the servants came forward, setting trays of food in front of each of them. Hatter, who hadn't eaten a proper meal in days, felt his stomach churn with anticipation.

"Please, help yourself," the Lion said. "I'm sure my sister's hospitality did not extend to food."

Unable to help himself, Hatter tucked in feverishly, or as well as he could with only his left hand. Everything was absolutely divine, from the flame-broiled bird - Whistbry, he reckoned, or Gorm Sparrow - to the seasoned vegetables, most of which Hatter hadn't tasted in his lifetime. The whole thing was garnished with bread and butter that melted in the mouth and a sweet, honeyed wine.

"It isn't poisoned, you know," the Lion said abruptly, and Hatter looked up. It was only then he noticed that Alice had been picking half-heartedly at her food.

"It's alright, love," Hatter assured her and glanced pointedly at the Lion. "He needs us alive, doncha?"

"Clever as they come," the Lion said in amusement.

Hatter chuckled dryly. "Flattery doesn't work on me."

Alice was still glaring at the Lion suspiciously, but she obligingly took a bite of the meat. She tried to hide it but her eyes lit up at the taste, and she continued eating with less reservation.

"You know, I 'ate to tell you this," Hatter said, spearing a crisp, green wedge of something on the golden fork, "but if you're lookin' for this fellow Time, I dunno where he is."

"History says otherwise," the Lion said unconcernedly. "And you've been around long enough to know that History does not lie."

"Not outright," Hatter agreed. "But she can be twisted easy 'nough, and she's a right sucker for gossip."

The Lion laughed, a thunderous, bestial noise. "True enough, my friend," he said passively, examining the rim of his wine glass before bringing it to his lips. "Still, you are the best shot I've got at finding him, and I _will_ find him."

"Good luck wi' that," Hatter said flippantly.

"Now don't be that way," the Lion said, his grin sharp. "I am so much kinder than my sister was. Surely you'd rather I have the information than her."

"A gilded cage is still a cage. Honestly, I'd rather neither of you find 'im, for 'is sake," Hatter said plainly. "But see, that's not really up to me. Like I keep sayin', I don' have the information you want."

"I disagree," said the Lion. "And so does my expert."

Hatter's eyebrows rocketed up to his hairline. "Expert?"

"Yes." The Lion leant forward on his elbows, and his smile seemed dangerous and predatory. "I have in my employ a man who is an expert in the lore of the Hatters. He has told me all about the original Hatter, his conflict with Time, and the secret they share. The secret that belongs to all Hatters."

"Knows a right lot more about me family than I do," Hatter said with a laugh. "I'd like to meet this expert o' yours."

"I was under the impression you already had, but of course," the Lion agreed. He gestured to one of the servants, who scampered off to a small door set in the corner of the room. "Hatter, Alice-of-Legend, please meet my advisor, the Lizard."

A man strode out of the door and toward the table. He was tall and thin, his dark hair shot with grey at the temples and slicked back over his head. His clothes were all black save for an emerald green trenchcoat that hung to his knees. He walked with his head bowed and stopped at the edge of the table beside the Lion.

"Lizard, greet our guests," the prince said with a hint of sadistic pride.

The other man sighed and then lifted his face. At the same time, Hatter’s hand went slack, and the fork clattered to the table loudly. It seemed like all of the oxygen had been sucked from the room, but Hatter managed enough breath for a single, incredulous word.

"Da?"


	15. Bill the Lizard

The Lizard offered a tentative smile. "Hello, David."

Alice looked sideways at Hatter in shock. He was deathly pale, sitting completely frozen except for a tremor in his left hand, which was still hovering midway to his mouth. "Hatter," she prompted, touching his arm gently.

"Forgive me, I've forgotten my manners," the Lizard spoke up suddenly, his eyes lingering on Alice. His voice was smooth, pleasant, and the accent was sleeker and less rugged than Hatter's. The Lizard swept back the tails of his coat and bowed. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Alice-of-Legend. I am William Lagorio, but you can call me Bill. And, as said, I'm David's father."

"No." Hatter's tone was harsh and clipped, and his head snapped up to stare across the table at the older man. "No, you're not. You'd 'ave to been there to be a father."

"David," said Bill, wincing. "It's not the way you think."

"You know wha' I think?" Hatter asked, planting his left fist on the table and standing up. "I think one day you got bored and wandered off, and you left mum and me to starve. And for wha'? So you could live the cush life with this ponce and make up stories 'bout mum's family?"

"David, please," Bill pressed, but Hatter ignored him.

Turning to the Lion, Hatter said, "If you'll 'scuse us, I think we'll get on back to our room. 'M not feelin' so well suddenly."

"Sit, Hatter," the Lion responded coolly. "We still have much to talk about."

Hatter looked like he was going to argue, every muscle taut and a nerve jumping in his jaw. Alice reached up and set a hand on his arm warningly. Hatter glanced down at her and seemed to read something in the fear in her eyes. "Right, then," he said tightly and dropped back into the seat, although he was perched on the very edge, ready to run at the first chance he got.

"Now, I believe you had some questions that you wanted answers to," the Lion said, tone civil once again. "Perhaps when you have heard the full story, you will understand what I am after, and you will feel more - _sympathetic_ to my cause."

"I keep tellin' you," Hatter said, frowning and staring down the larger man, "even if I _were_ on your side, I don' 'ave the answers you want."

"I think otherwise," the Lion said and shot a significant glance at Bill. "Lizard, please, sit," he added. Bill slipped tentatively into the seat opposite Hatter, looking as eager to bolt as his son. "Now, back to business," the Lion said. "You had questions?"

"Alright then," Hatter said, and he narrowed his eyes. "Tell me the truth, what you Whites want with this Time bloke?"

The Lion scratched at the dark ginger stubble on his chin thoughtfully. "You have all, of course, heard the story about the Mad Hatter and the Never-Ending Tea Party?"

Hatter nodded, but Alice said, “The what?”

"You'd likely know him from the old Alice legends," Bill supplied. "The Mad Hatter that Alice-of-Legend met on her trip here. When he was younger, he disrespected Time. As punishment, Time froze him in a moment, trapped in that exact instant for nearly three hundred years. Never ageing, never growing, never changing.

"Well, eventually Time and the Mad Hatter made peace, Time released him from the time stop, and they parted ways as friends. But before they went their separate ways, Time gifted an important piece of information to the Hatter: the home of Time. He said that all Hatters would instinctively know where to find Time."

"And tha's why you think I know where 'e's at?" Hatter asked the Lion sceptically. "'Cause o' some ol' kids' story?"

"Wait," said Alice, shaking her head, "you're related to _that_ Hatter?"

"He's me grandad," Hatter said. "Mum's da."

"David kept the family name because the Hatter name carries more influence than Lagorio," said Bill.

Hatter snorted. "No, kept the name 'cause it was a Hatter what raised me," he retorted briskly. "Me mum. 'Member 'er?"  

"The point is," the Lion cut in, "that you have the way to find Time inside that head of yours, and I need it."

"E'en if I did, why should I tell you?" Hatter challenged.

"Because I'm the better alternative," the Lion said with a genuinely frightening grin. "There is a power play going on in the White Kingdom. My mother, the White Queen, is - _indisposed_. This has left our people without a leader, and they are divided between my sister and me."

"Wha's Time gotta do with this?" Hatter asked.

"Our mother managed to maintain the throne for so long thanks to a close relationship with Time," the Lion explained. "He supplied her with the power that she used to keep the kingdom under control."

"So you think whiche'er of you finds 'im first gets to be king," Hatter concluded. "What makes you think he'll 'elp you?"

"Same reason you will," the Lion said simply. "Because you won't have any other choice."

"Unicorn thought t' same thin' an' she still don' know," Hatter pointed out.

The smile that the Lion replied with was enough to make Alice's blood run cold. "Yes, but my sister didn't have the leverage that I do," he said and flicked his gaze toward Alice pointedly.

Hatter's smirk fled, expression going cold and unforgiving, and his eyes burnt with a dangerous light. "You touch 'er and this stupid belt won' save you," he said darkly.

"Yes, well I'm hoping it won't come to that," the Lion said, and he sounded entirely unconcerned. Bill, on the other hand, had flinched backwards at the threat and was eyeing Hatter nervously. "It would be so much easier if we could just do this civilly."

"I keep tellin' you, I dunno where this Time bloke is," Hatter said insistently.

"Yes, you do, David," said Bill, voice soft. "It might not make sense to you, but it’s there."

"What're you on about?" Hatter asked, his forehead wrinkling.

Bill sighed. "It was your mother’s idea to do it," he said, speaking to his steepled fingers. "You see, the secret is too much for a mind to handle. It's what’s been driving her mad, just like it did to her father. The centre of all Time, it's a heavy secret that was never meant to belong to one person. So when we found out we were expecting a child, she asked me to find a way to protect you from the secret.

"I was a Chemist at the time, working for the Queen of Hearts, so I had plenty of access. I worked with another Chemist, a man named the Carpenter." Alice wasn’t able to contain her soft gasp, something in her chest lurching painfully. "He was an expert in brain chemistry, doing groundbreaking research in Metaphysical Neuromanipulation. Together we discovered a way to lock the secret away in the back of your mind, shielding the rest of you from being damaged by it. There was only one way to release it; a neural key that could only be activated by a code that your mother chose. Even I don't know what it is."

"What a load of bollocks," Hatter sneered. "You're tryin' ta say there's a secret in me head that on'y Mum knows 'ow to get out?"

"Surely she's told you," Bill said, frowning. "You may not realise that’s what it was, just something that she emphasised to you. A word or phrase or name. She swore she would tell you when you came of age so you could make the choice yourself."

Hatter grimaced. "She mighta done, but she died when I was eleven."

Bill's head snapped up, and a look of pure anguish crossed his face. "Lorina's dead?"

"You'd'a known if you'd been there," Hatter said coldly.

"David, I-"

"Don't call me _David_!"

"So are you saying,” the Lion interrupted, sitting forward and seeming to fill the space with his presence, “that the only person who knew how to get the secret out of Hatter's mind is dead? Lizard, you told me we would be able to get the secret out."

"And you told me my wife was alive," Bill responded sharply and Alice could suddenly see the resemblance between him and Hatter. They both had the same prominent cheek- and jawbones, and a certain spark of ferocity in their expressions that commanded attention.

"As far as I'd been informed, she was," said the Lion, dismissive. He contemplated them silently for a minute and then his eyes turned to Hatter. "Perhaps you and Alice-of-Legend should retire to your room. It seems that the Lizard and I have much to talk about before we can proceed."

The trio of guards appeared behind them, and Alice and Hatter stood. Alice kept her hand in the crook of Hatter's elbow as they walked out of the dining hall. Hatter didn’t look back at his father once. They were silent as they walked through the maze of corridors back to their room, and neither of them spoke until the door had been locked behind them.

Hatter paced a line at the foot of the bed, flexing the right hand that the guards hadn't released from the cuff. When he didn't say anything for several minutes, Alice prompted, "Hatter?"

Like he was deflating, Hatter slumped down to sit on the floor and put his forehead in his free hand. Alice was at his side immediately, and he leant into her shoulder. "It's me da," he said breathlessly. "Cracked kettles, never thought I'd be seein' 'im again."

"He left you?" Alice asked gingerly.

"When I was a wee thing," he said. "So li'l I 'ardly remember 'im. Was there for a bit, then he started comin' 'ome less and less. Then one day he jus' didn' show. Broke me mum's heart, it did."

"Hatter, I'm so sorry," she said, wishing she could find the right words to express how sorry she was and that she understood his pain.

It turned out Hatter was thinking the same thing. "You and me, we got more in common 'an we thought, yeah?" he said, glancing up at her with red eyes. "Both findin' our da years after they rabbited."

"But yours is still alive," Alice pointed out.

"And 'e sold me out t’ that big cat in there," Hatter responded, and Alice was forced to admit that he had a point.

"I'm sorry about your mom," she said gently. "I didn't realise she was dead."

"It 'appened a long time ago," he said with a weak shrug. "She gave me this," he reached out and lifted the lily pendant out from beneath the neckline of Alice’s dress, "day she died. Las' thing she said t' me was 'Why's a raven like a writin' desk?'" He chuckled and shook his head.

"Oh, I figured it out," Alice said abruptly. Hatter looked up at her curiously. "The answer to that riddle," she clarified. "Why's a raven like a writing desk? I figured out the answer. They both make flat notes."

"They both make flat notes?" Hatter echoed.

Of its own accord, the locket snapped open in Hatter’s palm. A split second later, Hatter screamed and doubled over, clutching his head in his free hand. "Hatter!" Alice shouted in alarm, grabbing his shoulders. Hatter was trembling, his grip tight on the side of his head as he growled through clenched teeth.

The door to the suite abruptly burst open, and the Lizard appeared in the frame, a drip of blood smeared beneath his nose. He ran over and dropped down beside them. "David!" he said, trying to pry Hatter's hand away to no avail. Instead, he turned to Alice. "What happened?"

"I don't know," she said frantically. "This locket opened, and then he just started screaming."

Bill's eyes widened as he gazed at the pendant. "The key," he said under his breath. "Damn it all." Bending so he was on the same level as Hatter, he said, "David, don't fight it. Just let it in. It'll hurt less if you don't fight."

Hatter's body seised, and he crumpled onto his side, twitching. Once again pulling up her first aid training, Alice hastily slid around to sit on her heels behind Hatter's head. She cradled his head in her lap, making sure he didn't hurt himself as the seizure took control of his body.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," Bill said as he knelt beside Hatter, looking stricken. As he rubbed his jaw, Alice saw that his knuckles were split and bloody. "He was supposed to be _safe_."

Before Alice could ask what he was talking about, Hatter stiffened up one last time, back bowed high off the ground, and then stilled. His half-opened eyes were unfocused, gazing up into some middle distance, but at least the twitching had stopped. He took a deep, shuddery breath and then, “Tick…tick…The clock ticks…”

"Hatter?" Alice said, stroking his cheek and forehead soothingly. Her heart was hammering in her chest, but she tried to keep her tone gentle. "Hatter, come back to me."

“The clock…tick…it ticks…” Hatter inhaled sharply and then blinked several times. There was a look of awe and wonder in his eyes as they finally focused on her face. "Alice, I know."

"Know what?" she asked.

"The Clock," he said. " _Time_. I saw it."

"You released the key," Bill said and pointed at Alice. "The locket. We trapped the neural key in there, and it would only open with a code word or phrase. You must've said it."

Hatter coughed, struggling into a sitting position. "Why's a raven like a writin' desk," he said, and Alice's eyes widened in surprise.

"That was the key?" she asked.

"You figured it out, love," Hatter said and gripped her hand where it rested on his shoulder. "Figured out wha' none of us could. Mum's favourite riddle."

"Of course," Bill said and shook his head, his smile fond. "I should've known." His expression became more serious, and he looked down at Hatter. "Are you okay to move?"

"Bit sore, 'onestly," said Hatter. "And me head's killin' me. Why?"

"Because we've got to get you out of here," Bill said. He looked toward the open door and frowned. "As long as you didn't know the location, I could buy you some time, but that's over now. We have to get you out of here before he realises you've got what he wants."

"An' why the 'ell would we trust you?" Hatter asked. "In your dreams."

At the mention of dreams, Alice's mind suddenly drew up the Cheshire vision she'd had before dinner, and she gasped. "He's the lizard," Alice said, gripping Hatter's hand tighter. "Hatter, we have to follow him."

"Why?" Hatter asked.

"I had another dream," she said and gave him a pointed look. His lips thinned in comprehension. "The first step was a lizard. I didn't know what it meant then, but I think this is it. We have to follow the Lizard."

Hatter stared back at her for a moment and then he nodded. "If you thin' so, I'm with you, love," he said. Alice stood and helped pull him to his feet, making sure he was steady before she let go of his arm. Hatter glanced down at his cuffed right hand and then up at Bill. "Any chance you can-"

Bill produced a twisted bit of wire from within the lining of his collar and grinned. "Always keep one with me, just in case," he said as he walked over to Hatter. He undid the cuff around his wrist and then wedged out the pin that held the belt in place. Bill tossed the belt onto the bed as Hatter stretched his wrist experimentally.

"Now how do we get out of here?" Alice asked, picking up her ragged violet coat from the bedspread and pulling it on. She had already switched the glittery slippers for her trainers, and she stepped up next to Hatter with a decisive nod.

"Come on," Bill said, gesturing for them to follow him. "It won't be easy, but I have an idea."


	16. A Bid for Freedom

Hatter and Alice followed after Bill as he slipped out of their suite and into the corridor. Hatter was surprised to find two bodies strewn out on the stone floor at odd angles, the king's guards unconscious and bloodied. "Did you-?"

"Had to get passed them somehow," Bill said with a shrug. "When I heard you scream-" He paused, shook his head, and rubbed the back of his wrist beneath his nose to wipe away the drying blood. "Grab their weapons while I unlock these doors." As he headed for the door to the room where Charlie was detained, Hatter and Alice stole the guns from the guards' holsters.

"Just-Alice, Harbinger," Charlie shouted when the door to his room opened. He clanked out into the corridor, his eyes wide with worry. "Are you well? I heard-"

"We're fine, Charlie," Hatter assured him, although he was feeling far less than fine at the moment. His head was throbbing painfully like his skull was being compressed in a vice, and he kept seeing sparks behind his eyes. It was worse than even the Tea hangovers he'd experienced during his years in the custody of the Chemists.

"What's going on?" Rory asked when the Lizard had let him out of his room.

"We're getting out of here," Alice responded. She handed her gun to Rory, who took it with a grateful nod, and then they turned to Bill expectantly.

"Follow me," Bill said and he took off down the corridor. The other four hurried behind him, all of them moving quietly except for Charlie, who Hatter was quite sure was incapable of being quiet. They made their way through a series of halls until Bill signalled for them to stop.

"If you stand a chance of getting out of here, you'll need a distraction," he whispered. "This hall is closest to the stables. Wait here and take out anyone who spots you. Silently, if you can. I'm going to cause a distraction. At the signal, go through those doors, get horses, and get out of here."

"What's the signal?" Rory asked.

A mischievous grin flashed across Bill's face, one that looked alarmingly familiar to Hatter. "Trust me; you'll know it when you hear," he said. With that, he turned on his heel and sprinted down the corridor.

"I don' like this," Hatter hissed to Alice when Bill had disappeared around the corner. "Could be a trap."

"We can't be any worse off than we were before," Alice pointed out. "It's the best chance we've got." Hatter grumbled but didn't argue the point any further. The four of them huddled close together in an alcove on the side of the corridor, ears peeled for the sound of anyone approaching.

Hatter tensed when the steady rhythm of footsteps reached his ears. Rory cocked his gun, but Hatter put a hand on it, shaking his head. He waited expectantly until the steps were just outside the alcove and then stepped out. There was a fraction of a second where surprise flashed over the lone guard's face before Hatter punched him hard in the chest, sending him sprawling. The guard's head cracked against the wall, and he slumped into an unconscious heap on the floor.

"Help me move him," Hatter hissed, and Rory jumped out. They both grabbed one of the man's arms and dragged him across the hall into the opposite alcove, tucking him back against the wall. Hatter grabbed the man's gun, and they ducked back into the niche with the others.

Hatter had just passed the new gun to Alice when a sudden, grating screech shook through the walls. It sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard, but a hundred times louder until it vibrated in their very bones. All of them covered their ears in alarm as it reached a staggering pitch and then finally tapered off. Through the ringing in his ears, Hatter could hear the distant pounding of feet and shouts and gunshots.

"I think that's our signal," Hatter said, and the others nodded.

"What was that noise?" Alice asked as they ran for the door the Lizard had pointed out, Hatter's arm once more slung over her shoulders.

"Great bear-beast of the Hyperion," Charlie declared loudly.

"Bandersnatch," Hatter translated. "Meaner 'an a Jabber with a grudge."

They burst through the doors to the stables and found the room practically deserted save a handful of servants who were tending the frantic horses. Hatter, Alice, and Rory raised their guns while Charlie hefted his sword over his head. "Just let us take some 'orses, and we won't be no trouble," Hatter said. "If you wanna take this chance to leg it as well, be our guest."

The servants all stepped back, holding their hands up in surrender. Hatter nodded to the others, who immediately set about gathering up gear and strapping it to the horses while he kept his gun trained on the pack of servants. They had just finished when the door to the stables burst open, and three guns immediately sighted on the newcomer.

"Easy there," Bill said, holding up his hands. He was panting and red in the face, his hair and clothes dishevelled. "It's just me. Hurry, they're coming."

Hatter tucked his gun away and heaved himself awkwardly up onto a horse. The others all mounted their own horses, and then Bill pressed a lever that hauled the enormous front doors open. He jumped bareback onto a mare and then charged out the door with the others on his tail.

The brilliant afternoon sunlight was staggering after being trapped in the underground castle for hours. Hatter squinted his eyes, pulling his hat lower on his head to shield him from the piercing light. "Mountains," Alice shouted to the group over the rush of wind. "We need to head for mountains."

"This way," Bill yelled and craned his horse around to the left, toward the setting sun. As the others turned to follow, Hatter looked back at the opening to the castle. Dozens of rider-less horses were running loose, along with a few lone figures on horseback, but they were all headed for the distant forest. Servants taking the chance on freedom, he reckoned. Either way, it seemed that whatever Bill had done had bought them the time they needed. No one was following them yet.

Hatter glanced sideways at the older man riding on his right. He had aged, but there was no denying that he was the same man who populated some of Hatter's earliest memories. Bill Lagorio, his father. Hatter's mind was still reeling with the knowledge that his dad was there, alive and well. All this time he'd thought his father was dead. His mother had never led him to believe anything otherwise, and he had to wonder if she'd even known herself.

Now he knew why. His father hadn't been dead; he'd been working for the queen. A Chemist, just like Alice's da, making Teas and meddling with people's minds. With _his_ mind. Hatter's right hand clenched and he had to force himself to relax; he wasn't fond of Chemists, and with good reason, in his humble opinion. Then, somehow, Bill had gone from that to working for the Lion.

In all honesty, Hatter preferred the story he'd made up as a child: the one where his father had died valiantly saving Rebellion folks from the queen, going out in a blaze of glory.

Bill looked over at him, and Hatter hastily turned his focus forward again. There was nothing but miles of tall grass and low, swooping hills ahead of them, and far off in the distance was the greyish blur that must be the mountains against the horizon. Somewhere, in there, was Time.

The flash that had come to him had been crushing and painful, a rush of images that spiralled through his mind so quickly he hadn't been able to comprehend any of them fully. It had been impressions and colours and feelings, things that he knew wouldn't make proper sense before they actually reached that point. Until then, they were relying on whatever instructions the Cheshire cat had given to Alice.

All he knew was that they needed to find Time before either of those White sociopaths got their hands on him.

* * *

They rode several hours into the night, just to make sure they had greatly outstretched anyone who might have decided to follow them. The stabbing pain in Hatter's head had reached a near crippling pitch by the time they finally stopped in a little clearing where a jagged, misshapen spear of rock had broken up through the ground. None of them would risk a fire, so they tied the horses' leads to the craggy stone and settled down in a cluster.

When they were all seated, Bill cleared his throat. "David-"

"It's _Hatter!_ " he snapped at the older man pointedly. Before Alice's world, it had only ever been his parents that called him David. He was having a hard enough time dealing with the entire situation; he couldn't take hearing his childhood name in that voice again. "Just - my name is Hatter."

Bill's expression remained impassive, and he nodded. "Right. _Hatter_ , are you alright? You're pale."

"Head hurts a mite, tha's all," Hatter said, pressing the heel of his hand into his forehead. Alice took him by the shoulders and made him lie back, his head in her lap. She placed two fingers on either of his temples and began rubbing slow, steady circles into his skin. Hatter melted into her touch, his eyes fluttering shut as it gradually released the pressure throbbing inside of his skull.

"That'll be the secret," Bill said, his voice quiet and tense. "Decades of being repressed, and now it's finally out. Your head will hurt for a while."

"Got any good news for me?" Hatter asked sarcastically.

"Not particularly," Bill replied, equally sardonic. Hatter couldn't stop the reflexive twitch of his lips at the comment.

"Please excuse my lack of proper etiquette," Charlie cut in suddenly, "but who, exactly, are you?"

"Bill Lagorio," the Lizard said. "I'm the Hatter's father."

"Harbinger?" Charlie asked, his metal armour clinking as he turned to face him. It was clear he wouldn't accept the other man's word until Hatter had confirmed it, and Hatter warmed slightly at the knight's loyalty.

"S'a long story, Charlie," he said simply, not wanting to leave the comfort of Alice's soothing fingertips just yet.

Charlie seemed to accept the answer because he turned back to Bill and puffed himself up proudly. "Charles Eustace Fotheringale Malfoy, the third," he introduced himself. "White Knight and guardian of the curtsy, and envoy for the King of Hearts."

"A White Knight working for the King of Hearts," Bill observed shrewdly. "The world really has gone turny, hasn't it?"

Charlie sputtered, preparing to work himself up into a rage, but Rory jumped in quickly. "Sir Charles doesn't work _for_ the king," he said. "He's a personal friend of the king who occasionally lends his considerable talents to the king's cause."

"Precisely," Charlie huffed proudly.

"My apologies," Bill said, only slightly condescending. "And you are?"

"Rory Capricorn, ranked soldier to the King," the Suit responded. "Great, so now that we're all introduced, does anyone want to tell me where exactly we're going? The kingdom's back that way."

"We're not goin' to the kingdom," Hatter said. He grudgingly brushed aside Alice's hands and sat up to face everyone. "You and Charlie are, though."

"Like hell we are," Rory said while Charlie puffed himself up indignantly.

"I mean it," Hatter said. "I have something I need to do, something that on'y I can do."

"What is that?" Charlie asked curiously.

"I 'ave to find Time," Hatter explained. "I am the only one who knows how to find 'im. The Whites are lookin' for him, and if they find him first, we're all in trouble. With his power, those psychos could take over all o' Wonderland." Hatter described everything that had happened since they had been taken captive by the Lion. When he had finished, everyone was watching him silently.

Hatter continued, "I can't ask you to come 'long for this part. You've all risked enough comin' to fin' me."

"I didn't hear you asking," Rory said with an indifferent shrug. "Doesn't mean we don't offer."

Charlie nodded solemnly."It would seem that for this quest, you are the paladin and I, the harbinger. Where you lead, I will follow."

Hatter glanced between them, looking ready to argue, but Rory spoke over him. "You can send us off as many times as you want, but we're still going to follow you. You might as well just give it up now."

Hatter's gaze turned to Bill, and the older man shook his head. "You can forget that idea right now," he said. "I only just got you back in my life, David, I'm not about to watch you walk right back out of it."

"Hardly a time for family bondin', doncha think?" Hatter said dryly.

"I'm not leaving," said Bill, firmly. "Besides, you need me. I'm the one who knows about the family secret and that thing in your mind. You'll need my help if you want to understand what's going on."

"He's right," Alice said, a gentle hand landing on his spine. Hatter glanced back at her, and she lowered her voice. "I know how hard this is for you, Hatter; trust me, I do. But you said this secret did bad things to your mom, and if that's going to start happening to you..."

"Hey," Hatter said when he noticed that her eyes had gone particularly bright. He reached out and cupped her cheek."It'll be okay, love. We'll figure this out." Hatter turned back to the others, and his eyes met Bill's only briefly. "Fine. Fine, I give up."

"You should all get some rest," Bill said. "I can take first watch."

"We'll leave at firs' light," Hatter said by way of agreement.

Bill relocated to the boulder while the rest made themselves as comfortable as they could on the hard ground. Hatter curled himself around Alice, hugging her against his chest to reassure himself that she was still there. It seemed she felt the same need, tangling her legs with his and threading her fingers through the hand that rested on her abdomen. Hatter let out a shaky breath that ruffled her hair and then closed his eyes.

Tomorrow began a whole new adventure.


	17. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... This is awkward.
> 
> I'm really sorry, guys, I never meant to leave this for so long. I've told a couple of you who messaged me directly, but I've had a really rough year. For those of you who didn't know, I have very severe bipolar and my medication stopped working. Anyone with depression can tell you that finding new medications is a months-long game of trial-and-error. It's not been fun and I've literally written next to nothing in a year (anything I've posted was written before). I'm finally up and functional again, so I'm going to try and write more, but please keep in mind I'm still working and going to school full-time.
> 
> Thank you to everyone for being so immensely patient and hanging in there. Updates might be slow in coming, but I promise that this story is not abandoned and it will be finished. Eventually.
> 
> NOTE: I've done a great deal of editing to the story in the last few weeks. For the most part, it was cosmetic, but there has been a change to the last chapter. If you don't want to go back and read, all you need to know is that Charlie and Rory are sticking with the group. Everything else is basically the same.

The Lion paced back and forth in his greenhouse courtyard, wringing his hands behind his back. All around him were the sounds of motion as servants and guards worked to remove debris and cart away the injured. The signs of destruction were visible everywhere, from collapsed furniture to crumbling walls. Even his little sanctuary had not been spared; two of the walls were shattered, glimmering shards of glass sprinkled all over the stone floor, and a corner of the foliage was trampled into mud.

A flicker of movement drew the Lion’s gaze up as his captain of the guard emerged through the shrubbery. The young man looked drawn, his uniform spattered with dust and blood, and one sleeve was torn away to make a bandage around his forearm. He stopped at the edge of the private clearing and bowed respectfully. "Your majesty."

"Report," the Lion demanded.

Captain Hawke stood to attention. "The Bandersnatch has been dispatched. The majority of the damage to the castle was contained to the eastern side, with severe structural damage to the menagerie and surrounding areas. Current count shows at least nine deaths and twenty-two injured, but there are still more rooms to clear, and the number is expected to go up.”

The prince bared his teeth, growling. "And our - _guests_?"

Captain Hawke flexed his hands at his sides. "They are still currently unaccounted for. We have attempted to send men after them, but it has been difficult. The majority of our stables have been emptied. A small group of soldiers have taken the remaining horses out on a patrol search, but as we are uncertain which way they went-"

"Yes, I understand," the Lion snapped, cutting across him with an angry hand motion. His blood was burning through his veins like fire as he thought about it. That worthless Hatter and his band of misfits had gotten away from him and destroyed his home in the process. "The Lizard?"

"Also unaccounted for," Hawke said, "but three servants from the stables have reported seeing him there with the others."

The prince snarled. "He helped them escape." It was the only explanation that made sense – how else would the Bandersnatch have escaped from its cage unless it had been set free? – but having his suspicions confirmed made his stomach roil. "When I find that traitorous reptile I will have him fed to a nest of Gnashbrights."

"Our men have been ordered to apprehend them alive," the captain said.

"No." A surge of vicious rage brought a smile to his face, and the Lion dragged a hand back through his sweat-stiff hair. "The Hatter, yes. And the Lizard, if possible. If they cannot be captured and contained, do not hesitate to eliminate them."

Captain Hawke nodded. "The others? Alice-of-Legend and her knights?"

"Kill them all," the Lion said. "And if you can, make sure the Hatter sees you do it. Let him see what happens to those who cross me."

The captain's jaw clenched, but he nodded. "Understood, sir." He bowed again and then turned on his heel and marched away.

The Lion dragged his hands down his face irritably. All of that work - planting spies in his sister's ranks, raiding her fortress, tracking down the Hatter - and he hadn't even managed to get the information he needed. He really thought he'd finally tipped the scales in his favour this time, but they were back to the same place they'd been for the last century; a stalemate.

There was the faintest thump behind him and then suddenly a sharp, searing pain exploded through his chest. His shout caught in his throat as blood bubbled up into his mouth. The Lion glanced down and saw a narrow silver point protruding through the left side of his ribcage. The point retracted, and the Lion staggered around to face his attacker.

"Hello, brother dear," the Unicorn said, grinning. She twirled her favoured dagger, still coated in his blood, between her fingers. "Miss me?"

The Lion's legs wavered underneath him, and he fell to his knees. He gagged and spat out a mouthful of blood to clear his airway. "Was that really necessary?" he asked, scowling up at her.

The Unicorn shrugged. "It made me feel better."

"Good for you." He spat again and probed the hole in his chest experimentally. A slow stream of blood soaked into his shirt and, inside the hole, he could see the still-pulsing muscle of his heart. He grimaced. "I really liked this shirt."

"And I really liked my fortress," the Unicorn responded wryly. "Although," she paused to look up at the jagged remains of the broken windows jutting down from the ceiling like fangs, "I feel like there's a delicious sort of irony in this. Did I hear something about your pet Bander getting out to play?"

"What do you want, sister?" the Lion asked, waspish. The itch had already picked up in his chest, telling him that the wound was beginning to repair itself, but it still hurt in the meantime. "You didn't come all this way just to waste your time putting holes in me."

"Of course not," she agreed. She pulled a handkerchief from her bustier and began cleaning off her dagger. "That was just a bonus. No, I _had_ come to take back what you stole from me, but I see that you've misplaced him."

The Lion managed to get to his feet again, pulling himself up with a nearby tangle of vines. The world was swaying slightly, but he didn’t like being on a lower level than his sister; no reason to give her more of an advantage, even if there was nothing she could really do. "Technically, I didn't steal him. He'd already escaped. I just happened to find him after the fact. And aren't we getting a little too old to be fighting over who touched whose toys?"

"Then stop touching my toys," the Unicorn said and smirked dangerously. The prince rolled his eyes. "So, it seems that we’re back to square one. I’m going to go find the Hatter and break this damned cycle. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay out of my way."

"And here I was going to say the same thing. Just like old times, then," the Lion responded. He drew the gun from the waist of his trousers and fired. Gore spattered across the greenery as he emptied the clip, bullets tearing holes through her head, neck, and chest. The Unicorn crumpled backwards from the force just as Captain Hawke burst into the clearing, gun at the ready.

"Your majesty?" the captain asked, glancing from the prince's blood-stained tunic to the immobile princess.

"Captain, have your men escort my sister to her usual accommodations," the Lion said. He stepped forward to tower over his sister's crumpled body. She wasn't moving - most likely one of the bullets in her neck had damaged her spine - but she was still conscious. The left side of her jaw had been shattered, so she only glared up at him furiously. "She'll want to be _comfortable_ while she recovers."

The captain whistled and, a moment later, three of his men came into the clearing. They picked up the Unicorn's mangled body, ignoring her choked growls. The Lion grinned as he palmed her dropped dagger. "May the best man win," he said and plunged the horn into her stomach. He nodded to the guards, and they carried her off in the direction of the dungeons.

"Should I fetch the doctor?" Captain Hawke asked, eyeing the bloody hole in the prince's chest uncertainly.

"No, I will be fine shortly," the Lion said. "Have your men prepare to leave immediately. If we hurry, we can get at least a day's lead on my sister. It's time we end this."


End file.
